


Psycho

by thecoumie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychopaths, Blood and Gore, Death, F/M, M/M, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:45:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 139,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoumie/pseuds/thecoumie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dan's thoughts take the best out of him, the only thing he can do is to follow through.</p>
<p>Deciding to play by his own rules, Dan embodies the dark part of his mind. Phil, noticing changes in his flatmate's behavior, worries for his mental state. Wanting the best for him, he tries to crawl inside his head to understand him... but Dan won't let him in so easily.</p>
<p>*Inspired by Dan's video 'Psycho thoughts'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i put the introduction at the beginning of this chapter, which is ugly i know, because i have no idea how this website works and i don't want to put it as its own chapter. so sorry, the next chapters will be all neat and chic.

_**Introduction** _

From the outside, Dan looked like one of the most normal people in the world. Dark hair and dark eyes, nothing more normal. He could easily blend into the mass and make himself discrete. He was very articulate and could converse normally with friends. He would politely smile to strangers looking at him and not bother anyone.

Nothing more normal.

But it's easy to categorize someone as "normal" by simply looking at them and analysing the way they dress, walk, talk or look at you for the three seconds you cross eyes on the street. Dan could mislead people.

His mind was far from society's norm. His talking and walking might translate a sense of normality like anyone else's, but if anybody read his mind, they wouldn't stand too long before getting frightened to death.

"L'appel du vide" is a French term which means "the call of the void". This term is used to describe a voice in people's minds that tells them to jump off a high building, for instance. It's the brain's way to take control over a situation. It will always be more appealing to someone to take an opportunity that could completely annihilate them, because it is the strongest decision they could make in that situation.

Everybody has "l'appel du vide". Most people never listen to it. It's normal.

But Dan's "appel du vide" was way more developped than other people's. Dan's thoughts were always about brutal death, violence and dark ideas. He would vividly daydream about his friend and family's death and he would remember everyday that he had the power of life and death, that he had the power to kill.

Dan could mislead people.

His body might give him a one way ticket for the "norm worthy" train, but if his mind was an open book, he'd be sent straight back to freak town.

He couldn't help it, though. He didn't necessarily choose to have this intensified appel du vide. Dan tried as hard as possible to repress all these thoughts, but they just consumed his mind. Nobody knew, he didn't want anybody to know, he didn't _need_ people to know. He lived with it. He always acted like he was completely... normal. But the voices were always there, whispering, begging in the back of his head...

Always.

 

**_Chapter 1_ **

The scent of food was delicious and spread all over the apartment as Dan and Phil ate dinner. They had put a TV show they had to keep up with on the screen and Phil was captivated. He ate his food slowly, unable to leave his eyes off the show.

Dan, sitting next to him, was zoning out. He was turning his fork and knife in between his fingers, the plate resting on his lap. The sound of the TV show was just a faint buzzing in his ears and he stared at Phil's chest.

Dan imagined himself stabbing his knife straight into Phil's heart. He imagined his blue eyes looking at him with pain and plead as he screwed the knife deeper into his flesh, watching the dark red blood squirt out of his wound. He grasped Phil's back with his free hand to get a better hold as his eyes expressed panic, and he lacerated down his flesh with all his strength, litres of fresh blood splashing out of the gap.

“Sixteen…” he whispered, grinning sinisterly.

“Dan?”

The sound of the TV became clear again and Dan looked up at Phil.

“You okay?”

Dan looked at the fork and knife still in his hand and glanced at Phil's chest, which was clean. He realized he had been intensely staring at Phil's chest for about 10 minutes, vividly daydreaming about yet another really dark thing.

“Um, yeah, I'm fine.” Dan sputtered.

He took a huge bite of his food to swallow down the awkwardness.

Phil chuckled lightly and stared back at the screen. Dan chewed loudly on his food as he sweated nervously.

He was so scared. Why did he keep imagining those things? They were horrible; he never wanted to see those kinds of things! This voice in his head, dictating every move, every single atrocity.

Dan put his plate on the table, stood up quickly, swallowed the end of his bite and stumbled to the door of the living room.

“Where you going?” Phil wondered. "The episode's not over yet!"

“I… I just… I'll watch it later…”

Dan swiftly opened the door and ran to his bedroom as fast as he could. He threw himself on his bed and curled up in a ball.

He breathed heavily and shook dangerously. He felt so sick he thought he'd throw up.

Dan had always been able to manage himself after hearing the voice and witnessing some terrifying scenarios, but lately it seemed like it traumatized him every single time. He was used to it, he would zone out all the time and just imagine those kinds of thing for no reason whatsoever, but he knew it was normal and he wasn't supposed to worry about it. But not a long time ago, it started getting more intense, and every time getting gorier, scarier...

Dan believed it was just a phase, that it would come back to normal soon enough. It had to. He couldn't just run like an idiot every time he imagined this stuff. It had to. He had to go back in the living room and act normal. He had to.

He stood back up and rubbed his sweaty forehead with his forearm. Dan dragged his feet to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror; sweat marks were covering his entire face and he was as pale as a sheet. He opened the tap and gently splashed water all over his face. He raised back his head to stare into his own eyes in the mirror.

Dan saw his razor resting on the countertop. He grabbed it in a swift movement and slit his throat.

The razor dropped to the floor as the wound freed blood just like a waterfall. Dan grasped his bleeding neck with both hands. He closed his eyes tightly, gasping and choking. He stepped back quickly and banged into the door behind him, gripping the doorknob to avoid falling to the ground. He slid down the door and before his eyes became too heavy, he saw the number “16” written on the floor with his own blood.

He opened his eyes again. Dan jumped when he realized his razor was still on the countertop, and that his neck was uninjured.

He ran his fingers through his hair madly and rubbed his eyes firmly.

Dan scurried out the bathroom door and bumped into every wall. He was terrified; he just wanted to get control of his body again!

He was so shaken, he felt his head throb.

He rushed to the living room, he needed to control his body, he needed to prove Phil, to prove himself that he was normal!

He slammed the door open and Phil jumped.

“Dan?!” Phil exclaimed, standing up quicker than Dan had ever seen anybody get up. “Oh my God, are you okay?” He grabbed Dan's shoulder. “You're so pale you shou-”

Dan tottered forward as his head pounded. He opened his mouth to tell Phil he felt alright, that he was normal, but his body suddenly felt overly heavy and his eyeballs rolled into their sockets before he violently collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

~

“Dan! DAN! WAKE UP!”

Dan jumped back into consciousness just like he had been drowning. He breathed heavily, still lying on the living room floor. Phil's worried face was hovering over him.

“Thank God…” Phil sighed, relieved. “You blacked out, I was about to call 999 on your butt!”

Dan sat back up and took his head with both hands. He tried getting up but Phil forced him to stay down.

“Easy there.” he said, pushing Dan back to the ground. “We don't want you fainting again.”

“I'm fine.” Dan grunted, insisting on getting up. “Probably had food poisoning or something.” he lied.

Phil let Dan up but protested with:

“Well I'm not letting you cook for the next weeks; I wouldn't want you to kill me!”

Phil had a good laugh. He laughed and laughed, and started coughing, and coughed and coughed... and choked. He took his throat with both hands and gasped for air. He couldn't breathe anymore.

“Sixteen…” Dan murmured before Phil fell to the ground like a rag doll.

“Yeah, that would be inconvenient…” Dan whispered, still bugging on the word 'kill'.

“You should get some rest now.” Phil proposed.

Dan nodded. Phil friendly smiled as Dan exited the living room to head to his bedroom.

“I wouldn't want you to kill me” he heard Phil's voice repeat in his head.

Dan slowly lied himself down on his bed, Phil's voice echoing through his mind.

He sinisterly smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

The weird burning sensation in Dan's stomach was the reason for his early awakening. His phone displayed 3:31. A person like Dan, going to bed around 3am and waking up at 1 in the afternoon, would feel completely exhausted waking up this early. But, for some reasons, he felt strangely good physically although he felt mentally empty.

Phil was still asleep and going online didn't even cross Dan's thoughts for a second.

Claustrophobia had never really affected Dan in any way. But today, he felt trapped staying inside of his room or even just the flat. He looked around himself, breathing heavily. The only source of light in the room was his small lamp next to his bed. It made the room look gloomy. Dan felt his chest going up and down faster and faster as he looked around. If he didn't get out of there anytime soon, Dan would hit the walls with his fists and feet.

He ran to the wall and propelled his foot right into the plastered surface. Dan smashed his fists into the wall and banged his head against it. He scratched the wall so strongly that his nails, at first, removed a layer of the wall, but then his nails started bleeding, flowing down the wall and they tore off of his fingers one by one.

Dan took a deep breath to calm himself down. He rubbed his hands together and looked at the wall. He was glad to notice the surface was undamaged. Jesus, his daydreaming became so vivid he couldn’t even differentiate reality and fiction. He greatly needed to blow and change his mind.

Dan dressed up of his black jeans and a black T-shirt, nothing more normal, and then put on his coat. After putting on his shoes, Dan was ready to leave the flat but he stayed in the middle of his room, staring at the emptiness for a few minutes. He walked toward his desk and opened the drawer he used to stow his useless stuff. He examined the inside for a moment and then took out a thick red rectangle. Dan had been offered this penknife years ago by a family member. He never saw the purpose of owning one of those and simply doomed it to the drawer of oblivion.

It was only today, years later that Dan finally decided to take it with him, just in case. For all these years, he didn’t even remember he had a penknife and today he just acknowledged its existence. He shoved it down his pants’ pocket and closed the drawer. He got out of his room and quietly exited the flat.

The night was cold and plunged into the dusk. Dan shivered and zipped his coat higher. He adventured himself in the dark street. He walked, not really heading anywhere. He felt the cold breeze against his uncovered face and felt good. 

Nobody was around. It was completely deserted. Only him and the silence. Dan looked both side of the road and crossed. In the middle of the road, he looked back to the left and a truck was driving to an indescribable speed toward him. The only thing he could see was the number “16” written in the dirt of the truck's windows. He didn’t have time to run to the other side of the road that the truck hit him violently.

Dan jumped and quickly opened his eyes. He was still alone in the middle of the street. No car was around and there weren’t even tire marks on the road. Dan sighed deeply and walked to the other side. After mindlessly walking for an hour, Dan sat down on a bench. He observed the empty London landscape. 

He breathed in deeply, absorbing the silence, when he heard heels clattering on the concrete behind him. He swiftly turned around and saw a lady walking toward his bench. She looked about Dan’s age. She was swaddled in a red coat and white fluffy scarf. Her long brown hair was floating in the wind. 

“Hi…” the lady gently said. “Sorry, did I scare you?” 

She sat down next to Dan. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Dan replied, puzzled.

“Having trouble sleeping, are we?” the lady asked.

“Excuse me?”

The red coated lady had a little laugh. “Not a lot of people wander around London at 4 in the morning.”

Dan nodded. “True, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I can’t sleep either.” she added. “I’m Agana, by the way.” 

Dan looked longingly at the lady who had now a name. He considered her before saying: 

“I’m Dan.”

“You come here often at 4 in the morning?”

“Not really. I just needed to change my mind.”

“I see.” Agana went on. “I genuinely do insomnia. So I come here to kill time.”

Dan’s eyes were still staring at the landscape but instantly turned to Agana when she pronounced the word “kill”. 

“That’s inconvenient.” Dan simply spoke.

“Yeah, it sucks. At least London at night is still very pretty. I never see anyone, but I’m glad to have someone to talk to tonight, Dan.”

“Me too.”

Dan’s finger was gently stroking the penknife in his pocket. 

“It’s a pretty name, by the way.” Agana pointed out. “It means ‘God is my judge’ in Hebrew.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“Yeah, really!” Agana giggled. “I’m just really interested in etymology of names. Isn’t it cool to know the name you’ve been assigned to identify yourself as for the rest of your life has a meaning, that it’s not just a bunch of letters associated together? For instance, my name means ‘blood’ in Chamorro. They’re the indigenous people of Mariana Islands.”

“Blood?” Dan repeated.

“Yeah, I know.” Agana sighed. “Pretty lame. I wish I had a cooler name with a better meaning, like, Tana or something. It means ‘fire’ or ‘star goddess’ in Greek. Araceli would be awesome too. It’s a Spanish name for ‘altar of the sky’.”

Dan stared at his feet, his hand still stroking the line of the penknife through his pants.

“Is there a name that means ‘death’ or like ‘murder’?” Dan pondered with an innocent voice, still staring at his feet.

“Um, yeah.” Agana replied, frowning her eyebrows. “There would be… Phonoi. It’s the Greek name for the spirits of murder, killing and slaughter. Or even Than, it’s Greek for ‘death’ and ‘brilliant’. There are others that mean ‘son of death’ like the Israeli name Berodach-Baladan. But I personally think there are limits at having extra long and weird names just for the meaning.”

“You’re right.” Dan whispered.

“Why did you ask, though?”

“I don’t know. I just want a name that fits me, I guess.” 

Agana’s eyebrows furrowed even more than they already were. Dan shoved his hand down his pocket and switched the blade of the penknife. He grasped Agana’s neck with his free hand, squeezing firmly, and jabbed the blade under her chin. The blade pierced through Agana’s mouth and the tip of it showed up through the flesh at half of her nose. Her green eyes were widening. Dan could see she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs out of terror, but his hand stopped any oxygen from coming in or getting out. He pulled the penknife out and stabbed in her forehead this time. The blood of her first wound flowed down on Dan’s hand and in Agana’s white fluffy scarf. He pulled the blade out of her forehead and the thick red blood squirted down her nose and dead eyes. He put the blade on her right cheek, and slit down. A thin wound opened up her skin and formed the number 1. He moved to her left cheek and slit down the same number, followed by a six to form a bloody 16.

He grinned. 

Dan opened his eyes. He took a deep breathe, shaken by this once again vivid daydream. He looked at Agana next to him. Dan covered his mouth with his hand. He shoved his scream down his throat and tried to convince himself this couldn’t be true. He looked at his other hand; the penknife was in his hand and covered in blood. His heart started to beat dangerously.

Agana was sitting on the bench next to him, her face covered in thick red blood coming from five different wounds.

Dan stood up as fast as he could. He wiped the blood off of his blade on her red coat and put the penknife back in his pocket. He noticed his own hand was bloody from Agana’s wound, so he wiped the blood off on her red coat as well.

_“I have to hide her body.”_  Dan thought.  _“I can’t leave her there.”_

Dan looked all around him, his body showing nothing but peace meanwhile his mind was a total nerve wreck. He didn’t have time to panic, he removed Agana’s white scarf from her neck and covered her whole face with the big and fluffy clothe to prevent the blood from pouring on him. He took her body in his arms and ran as fast as he could.

He had never run that fast. Actually, Dan never ran. But the adrenaline gave him the strength to run with such a weight in his arms.

He stopped at the first sewer drain he stumbled across. Dan put Agana back on the ground and grabbed the bars of the drain. With all the adrenaline, he lifted up the drain to reveal the black hole of the sewer. He took Agana back into his arms and threw her inanimate body in the black hole. When he heard her body hit the ground, Dan went down the ladder. He pushed Agana’s dead body out of the way, so from up there, nobody could see her. He climbed back up and put the lid back on. He looked around him and no blood had stained the ground. Dan ran away from his own crime scene, leaving everything behind him like nothing had happened. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dan didn’t stop running until he reached his apartment. It was now around 6 in the morning and the sun was starting to rise. His throat and mouth were dry as sand and his lungs were burning like a bonfire. Dan slammed open the door of the flat, ran up the stairs and locked himself in the bathroom. He leaned down on the toilet and threw up.

He held the toilet seat with both hands, his body shaking violently. He threw up again and he moved away from the toilet. His hand was still covered in some remaining dry blood. He opened the tap and maniacally washed his hands, rubbing so hard it actually hurt. Dan splashed water all over his face, still shaking dangerously.

He looked at himself in the mirror. “I killed her…” he whispered. “I killed her… I killed Agana… I killed her…”

He stopped. His limbs instantly stopped shaking and his heart almost stopped beating. He didn’t know what the feeling he felt inside was. Should he cry? Scream? Both?

Dan looked deeply into his reflection’s eyes. He started laughing. He laughed, at first lightly, and then louder and louder. Dan laughed hysterically, maniacally.  _“I killed her!”_  he repeated to himself. And he laughed. “I hid her body so well; nobody’s going to find her! It’ll take a few days before anybody notices she’s missing, and nobody will know she got murdered! Nobody will suspect me!  _Nobody! NOBODY!!!_ ”

Dan stepped back. When he realized what he had just said, his face dropped. He felt his stomach tighten and leaned back in time over the toilet before throwing up again. He started sobbing. He couldn’t believe what he had just said. It felt so right, it still felt so right! Big teardrops fell from his eyes and landed in the toilet. He could hardly breathe.

He stood up, still weeping copiously, and got undressed. He stepped in the shower. The hot water felt good on his skin. He rubbed his face, trying to forget what had happened an hour ago. But seeing these images back in his head made him grin.

“No!” Dan yelled, hitting his head with his fist. “Why are you smiling! WHY ARE YOU  _SMILING_!!!”

Dan hit the wall with his fist. He cried again, silently, the water falling down on him like a comforting hand.

The water of the shower became hotter. It suddenly became boiling hot and Dan started yelling. He tried stopping the shower but everything he tried made the water hotter. The water was so hot it started burning his skin. It melted his flesh and Dan fell at the bottom of the shower, his body all bruised, burned and bloody. He looked down at his body; the boiling water had carved the number “16” onto his chest.

He opened back his eyes. He stopped the shower, got out and attached a towel around his waist. He wasn’t feeling better at all. All of these mixed feelings were fighting inside of him like enemies, all of them trying to prove they’re the best; they’re the most moral one. 

Dan went back to his room. He took the penknife out of his pant’s pocket and opened the drawer of oblivion. He stared at it for a moment. He closed it. Dan put the penknife under his pillow before putting his clothes back on.

He dragged his feet back to the living room and sat there for God knows how much time. 7:00, 8:00, 9:00 passed, and Dan stayed in the same position, staring into the emptiness. He looked lost. Like he was physically there, but mentally long gone. 

~ 

Around 9:15, Phil woke up. He went to the kitchen and prepared himself some cereals. He went back to the living room and saw Dan sitting on the sofa.

“Good morning.” Phil said, sitting on the sofa as well.

Dan didn’t reply.

“ _Good morning_.” Phil repeated, looking at Dan.

Dan slowly turned his head to Phil, still not saying a word. His eyes were as empty as three hours ago and still red from crying so much earlier and being sleep deprived. 

“Dan? What’s wrong? Are you high or something?” 

Dan shook his head from left to right. 

“You’re still very pale.” Phil claimed. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Not at all…” Dan murmured.

“Wow, that food poisoning got you good. You probably don't feel like eating but you still have to. Have you eaten anything?”

Dan denied again. Phil proposed Dan to cook him something, but Dan’s stomach was still so shaken and tightened that he refused, still staring into the emptiness.

“Alright, then.” Phil accepted. “Just tell me if you change your mind. You look poorly, mate.”                                     

Dan had a cold, sharp laugh. _“Poor Phil,”_  he thought,  _“I can't believe he still suspects the food poisoning.”_  

“I think… I think I'll just try to get some rest.” Dan mumbled.

“Good idea.” Phil agreed as Dan weakly got up and walked back to his bedroom.

Dan sat in the middle of his bed. He continued staring at the wall. On the outside, he just looked plain sick. But inside, he was more alive than ever. He sat there and thought. More and more he thought about it, maybe it wasn't that wrong after all. When he killed Agana, he felt this feeling inside of him, like… like a hand pushing him to go further. Like he had achieved something.

At this moment, Dan knew. Guiltiness had been defeated by amusement. Evil had won over Good.

He didn't care anymore. It was now clear; killing wasn't “bad” like everyone said it was. There was something else to this sin; a different side.

Dan knew his mind was willing to show him the other side. He could prove the world that there  _was_ another side.

“My thoughts aren’t bad after all…” Dan whispered, demented. “They’re perfectly normal… I’m just the only one who finally understands the true meaning behind them. God is my only judge, after all.” 

Dan gloomily smiled. 

“I’m going to change the world…” he continued, evilness prowling in his veins. “I’m going to show everyone that life isn’t just about being restricted. It’s about being alive, and having the power over life and death! I can do whatever the hell I want! There are no laws to stop me. I _am_  revolution!”

All his life, his mind had been preparing him for the big day. The reveal, the day Dan would understand the true meaning of this. Killing Agana wasn't an accident, it was the beginning. The beginning of the game, of the pattern.

Dan burst into a demonic laughter. The only thing he had to do before taking action was to know the pattern. Then, he could start the rumble.

He grabbed his head with both hands and closed his eyes tightly. He tried to remember any details that could’ve slipped between his fingers that might be helpful. He revisited every brutal daydream and finally clapped his hands together in front of his face.

“Sixteen…” he murmured. “Or I said ‘sixteen’, or I saw the number sixteen written somewhere in the daydream. But what could it stand for?”

Dan mused harder. 16. What could it mean? His first victim was Agana. She told Dan her name meant ‘blood’.

“Blood as in the first I spilled.” Dan said.

His head rose swiftly.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed. “It’s a code. Agana was my first victim. Agana starts with an ‘A’, which is the first letter of the alphabet. The English alphabet contains 26 letters, but here, only sixteen of them are important. I’d suspect the 16 first letters to be the target since the first to be deleted was A. It can’t be a skip-a-letter-each-time pattern because then only 13 letters would remain, not 16.”

Dan paused. He longingly looked at the wall in front of him, a glimmer of insanity shimmering in his brown eyes.

“I have to eliminate 16 people, each of them bearing a name starting with whatever letter is next to be executed on the pattern. From the 1st, to 16th letter of the alphabet.”

Dan laid his head down on his pillow. He closed his eyes to rest but his lips couldn’t help but stretch into a devilish grin.


	4. Chapter 4

Dan stayed in his bed all day. Phil made several stops to his bedroom and found a peacefully sleeping Dan each time.   He slept for a good 10 hours, waking up at 6PM. His thoughts were consumed by the mission his mind had given him to accomplish. Phil came back to Dan’s room at about 6:30 to look after him. He had just cooked himself dinner and proposed Dan some food since he hadn’t eaten anything since the food poisoning incident. But Dan still looked kind of pale according to Phil. So when he refused, pleading he was still feeling sick and therefore unable to swallow anything, he simply nodded, whispered a quiet “if you need anything I’m in my room”, and went to eat alone.

The next day, Dan woke up at a decent hour in the morning. About 10AM. He probably looked less pale and sick than the last few days because Phil greeted him in the living room with a charming “Morning, wow, you look way better today!”

Dan nodded and sat down next to Phil. He was watching TV, but nothing really interesting ever played at this time of the day, so the news was on. Phil was devouring a bowl of cereal and when he noticed Dan glancing at it, he turned to him and asked: “Now do you want me to make you something? I reckon you haven’t eaten anything since that day you collapsed to the floor.” He laughed lightly. “So?”

Dan considered Phil for a moment. If he didn’t eat anything, Phil would be suspicious that something isn’t quite right.

“I can’t let him have suspicions. I have to eat, I still have to act normal.”

He grabbed Phil’s head and plunged it into his cereal bowl. He held his head tight and Phil struggled to get some air. The milk was getting into his nostrils and mouth and cereals stuck in his nose, stopping him from breathing. Dan let his hand go of Phil’s head. He took his face out of the bowl, taking in deep breaths as the milk and cereals poured on his knees and on the floor. Dan grasped Phil’s head once again before he could run and smacked it against the coffee table. He knocked his head against the table again and again, until he heard Phil’s bones break and blood spilled from every inch of his face.

Dan blinked.

“I’m starving.” He said.

“Alright.” Phil replied, getting up. “What about some eggs and toasts?”

“Sounds great.”

Phil left the living room. He came back about ten minutes later with a large plate full of eggs and toasts just for Dan. He put it on the table in front of him and sat back on the sofa.

“Thanks.” Dan thanked.

He took his fork and started eating. Dan ate silently and Phil took his laptop and started browsing the Internet. The TV was still on with the news playing. A man with a nice suit was sitting in front of a desk. He was tightly holding his papers in his hands.

 _“A young woman has been reported missing.”_ The man said.

Dan opened wide eyes. “That was quick.” He thought. Phil lifted his eyes from his laptop screen to look at the TV. They both listened carefully.

_“Agana Baldwin, 19 years old, has been missing for over 24 hours. Her parents, Vivian and Stan Baldwin, were instantly alarmed when they found out their daughter wasn’t in her bed the day they alerted the local police. They claimed Agana was an exemplary daughter, that whenever she left she would tell someone and that she always answered her phone. After finding no notes, they called Agana several times without answers. They waited the whole day in hope to see her come back, but she never did. If you see her, please contact the police immediately.”_

A picture of Agana was displayed as well as a description of her and what she might possibly be wearing. The same long brown hair and deep blue eyes he saw the night he murdered her. In the description, they said she “might be wearing a grey pyjama shirt, black leggings, a mid-thigh red coat and a white scarf”.

Dan couldn’t have seen the grey pyjama shirt and hardly noticed the black leggings. He only remembered the red coat and the white fluffy scarf. He retained himself from laughing out loud. He was surprised how quick they reported her missing, but he wanted to laugh hysterically because he knew nobody would find her. They still thought she was alive. He clenched his teeth not to laugh. “She’s dead! Dead!” he thought, cackling under his breath. “How dead is she? Hella!”

“That’s horrible.”

“What?”

Dan frankly turned his head to Phil.

“This is so horrible!” Phil repeated, pointing the TV screen in a sloppy move. “People going missing, it’s just horrible. It’s worse than them being dead! Like if they got murdered or something, the family’s got the body and they can mourn the loss. But when they’re missing, it’s like; they’re living in constant fear and anxiety. ‘Am I ever going to see her again?’ It’s like they can never be in peace. If you know they’re dead, you know nothing else can happen. But when they’re missing, you just don’t know anything.”

“I guess…” Dan simply spoke.

Phil took a deep breath. 

“Whoever did whatever happened to Agana Baldwin is off-putting. She might be dead as we speak!” Phil seemed genuinely frustrated. “Hopefully it’s just some teenage runaway.”

Dan simply nodded. His envy of laughter grew bigger inside of him, and he forced harder to keep it in. “He’s so innocent.” Dan thought. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know what it’s like. If only he listened to the voice in his head a little bit more.”

But Dan knew he had to keep it cool. He wouldn’t want to blow his cover right now, it was too soon. The pattern had only begun, still 15 people needed to be eliminated.

“I can’t let Phil suspect anything about me, neither my subscribers nor other Youtubers. I have to keep the routine. Make videos, attend (YouTube or not) events I’m invited to, interact with the fans, do live shows, go to the radio show… I just have to plan my schedule. Busy man at day, murderer at night.”

Dan couldn’t help but crack up a little bit.

“What’s so funny?” Phil asked.

“Oh, I didn’t laugh.” Dan lied. “I coughed… E-egg went down the wrong tube.”

Phil had a little laugh.

“Well, that was good but I’m full.” Dan said referring to his breakfast. “Thanks for that. I think I’ll just go film my new video.”

“Alright.” Phil said. 

Dan took his plate and left the living room. “Busy man at day, murderer at night,” he thought again. He chuckled to himself once again.

He went to the kitchen to throw away the remaining food and leave the plate into the dishwasher before going back to his bedroom. He took his camera and set it in front of him.

At first, he didn’t really know what to talk about. But the idea came to him. “Yeah… It’s perfect!”

About an hour later, Dan had finished recording. It was all part of the plan. “Psycho thoughts…” This video would prove his subscribers that everyone has those thoughts, it’s normal and that he would OBVIOUSLY never commit these preposterous crimes. Talking about this thing called “l’appel du vide” how it was normal and that as long as you didn’t listen to it you would be fine, and how he would OBVIOUSLY never listen to it because he was OBVIOUSLY a very sane and non-psychotic human being.

Of course his subscribers wouldn’t suspect anything. Who would suspect a 22 years old good-looking Internet sensation of brutally murdering innocent people? Nobody.

Anyway, what did he have to fear right now? Nothing. No proofs were incriminating him in any way for the moment. He was just preparing for the future.

Preparing for revolution.

  


	5. Chapter 5

Dan edited his video for the rest of the day. He apologized to his fans on Twitter for not doing a live show that night, but that instead he would upload his new video.

But the video wasn't the only reason why Dan didn't want to make the live show. He decided to skip it because he was scared he would speak too much about his psycho thoughts. In a video, he could think about what he would say and use the right words. But in a normal conversation, he had to come up with his answers quickly and couldn't start over if he used the wrong words. He wasn't ready to talk to so many people about this subject. He had to wait to get more comfortable.

After finishing up his editing, he uploaded the video to YouTube. After promoting it on Twitter, he walked up to his bedroom and stood in front of his bed. He considered it for two long minutes, then grabbed his pillow and threw it across the room. He took the penknife that had been resting under it and put it in his jeans pocket. He put on his coat and left the house.

It wasn’t very late. Around 8PM. It was a bit hotter than last Sunday. Once again, he didn't really know where he was headed, but he walked.

The sun wasn't quite setting yet and a few people were still wandering around, unaware that they could get murder at any time by Dan if his mind gave him the cue. They had no idea what he was capable of, the idea of Dan having a penknife in his pocket would never even cross their mind.

Because he looked so normal. He could kill them right here, right now, and they'd never expect it. But Dan didn't. He walked past them without getting any morbid daydream, and he hoped into a bus to get to central London. It was still quite busy, to be fair, London was never calm. Unless it was 3am on a Sunday.

He walked again, the sun hiding itself more and more behind the landscape of the horizon. Suddenly, his legs stopped walking and froze. He looked in front of him: on the other side of the street was a luminous sign displaying “Storm” above the front door of the place. It was a nightclub.

Dan stayed on the other side of the road, observing the people trying to get in. A blond guy walked up to the bouncer with a few friends.

Dan saw red. He sprinted to the other side of the street, jumped on the blond guy and he fell behind. Dan sat on his stomach and stabilized him to the ground with his knees. He felt so much power inside of him, so much anger and so much violence. He punched the blond guy's face with his fists repeatedly, the world behind him fading away. There was no bouncer, no friends, no bar, no luminous sign, only him, the blond guy, and his fists brutally knocking his skull. He then took the penknife out of his pocket, switched the blade, and stabbed the blond guy's chest for God knows how long. His rage wouldn't leave, Dan needed to get it out, so he stabbed, stabbed again, stabbed until the body didn't even look like one anymore...

“C’mon, Bradley! Get your ass in!”   

One of the blond guy's friends pulled him by the arm inside of the club. Bradley. It was the guy's name. Dan smiled widely, still on his side of the road. 

From someone else's perspective, Dan would've looked really creepy. But the people around were too busy either being drunk or immensely loud to notice this tall guy waiting on the other side of the Storm. 

Dan stayed still. The clock hands moved but Dan waited patiently, staring intensely at the Storm's front door.

With his black hood on, he was almost invisible. He blended into the darkness of the night and people walked past him, not even noticing him. He was like the air they breathe in. People take breaths and expire them in a split second, without even noticing any of it. It's such a fast and recurrent pattern that the brain doesn't even bother processing it. It just gets along with it.

People didn't process Dan. He was just another breath, just another expired carbon dioxide molecule. They just got along with it. They never even quite noticed.

Two hours later, Bradley wobbled out of the Storm. A security guard pushed them out and yelled: “Stay away, bastard!” before slamming the door. 

“Come on, man!” Bradley yelled back, clearly drunk. “I just want to have fun! My friends are still in there.”

“Fuck off, dude. Leave.” said the bouncer.

Bradley flipped him off. He then clumsily walked to the right, too drunk to even know where to go. 

Dan finally moved. He followed Bradley from the other side of the road, keeping a certain distance behind.

Bradley wobbled forward and walked straight into a pole. He fell backwards and landed on his back in a muffled sound. Dan crossed the road separating the both of them and ran to Bradley before anyone else around could. He crouched down next to him and asked:

“Are you okay?”

“My-my head hurts s-s-so much...” he drunkenly said.

 

Dan grabbed Bradley's arm and pulled him off the ground and stabilized him on his feet.

“You need help to go back home.” Dan said. “I'll help you. Where do you live?”

Suddenly, Bradley burst into tears. He cried so hard, his body shaking under the violent sobs.

“I fucked up!” Bradley exclaimed, the hot tears shining on his cheeks. “My boyfriend's going to kill me! I'm such an idiot, I don't even know where I am; just take me back to his place, please!”

Dan raised his chin.  _“Gay, huh? Could take advantage of that.”_  he thought.

Bradley tried walking onwards but alcohol had neutralized his balance. Dan grabbed his arm before he could fall down again and said:

“Alright, let's take you back to your boyfriend. Stop crying now, it's all fine.”

Bradley was too drunk to realize he hadn't given the address to his boyfriend's place. He just followed Dan, thinking he knew where to go.

Dan guided Bradley until they arrived in a small dark alley with a simple green dumpster.

Dan turned to face Bradley deep into his green eyes. 

“Wait, are we at Sam's house yet?”

Dan kept quiet.

“Where are we?!” Bradley exclaimed.

Dan walked slowly towards Bradley, still staring into his eyes.

Bradley opened his mouth to talk again, but quickly shut it when Dan stepped so close to him only a centimetre separated their chests. The height difference between them made Dan look down at Bradley, and Bradley stretch up his neck to look at Dan. 

Bradley's back was held against the dumpster. He saw Dan's lips. They looked so soft, comforting, kissable... And when his hand grabbed his hip and he saw Dan lean in for a kiss, he couldn't help but fall for it...

He closed his eyes, ready to connect his lips with Dan's, but they never did. Bradley felt a pain in his stomach, and it's when he looked down at it that he realized Dan's switchblade had pierced him. Dan's kissable lips stretched into a devilish smile.

Dan pulled the blade out of Bradley's stomach. He was too drunk to defend himself. He only watched Dan stab him one time through the heart before feeling his body go numb. Dan gently touched Bradley’s right cheek with his blade, and carved the number 2 into it. He then moved to the left cheek, still smiling mischievously, and carved the numbers 1 and 6.

Dan opened the dumpster door carefully and dumped Bradley's lifeless body at the bottom. He closed it back again after wiping off his blade and putting it back into his pants’ pocket.

He left the dark alley with a satisfied smile on his face.

 


	6. Chapter 6

When Dan arrived to his flat again, it was about 11pm. He walked straight up to his bedroom.

He took the penknife off his pocket and put it back under his pillow. He stood there, staring into the emptiness. He couldn't brush the smile off of his face. He had it since he left the dark alley.

Dan felt elated. Going further into the pattern, committing these crimes generated a joy inside of him. The feeling of committing the unthinkable, an act you can't undo, the thrill of killing without leaving any clues behind, the adrenaline rush pumping through his veins...

It made him feel things he had never felt before, and he liked it. Maybe he liked it too much. Way too much. Anybody who would’ve seen the flames flickering in his eyes at this exact moment would've categorized it as pure dementia. Maybe it was. But it was mainly the flames of exaltation. A very small amount of people could sympathize with that feeling. You had to be... Psychopath.

Psychopaths are before all sociopaths. They commit mass murder without feeling any guilt. Some of them do it without any motive, but not all sociopaths are dumb. Some of them are really clever. 

In fact, intelligence is one of the biggest advantages- or problems, depending on which side of the medal you are, in a sociopath. They manage to fool authorities and lead them to a complete different path. Surely, they all make one fatal mistake.

Most sociopaths have a motive to kill. To fulfill fantasies, for pleasure, to feed themselves- in Hannibal Lecter's case, but, let’s not go there.

For Dan, it was for revolution. He wanted to prove that life isn't about being restricted, but about being alive and having the power- being free. If he showed the world they could do whatever they wanted, that they had the power over life and death, the world would change! No more restriction! And he'd be the leader of this revolution, the first to prove your thoughts need to be expressed, all of them!

Thinking about his goal again made him even more excited. So excited that he started to feel his jeans tighten. 

Dan started to rub his hands all over his body, thinking about his two first victims, Agana and Bradley, and the 14 others to come. He closed his eyes and touched his body sensually, forgetting the whole world around him. Dan remembered Agana sitting on the bench next to him, and he slowly took off his coat, and then stripped off his shirt before throwing it on the ground. He climbed on his bed languidly, still caressing his body. He lay on his back, his eyes still closed. Dan slipped his hand down his pants, gently touching his growing erection as he thought of Bradley wobbling out the Storm. He had one hand down his pants and the other one was still smoothly fondling his bare chest. He removed his jeans, remembering the drunk Bradley walk into the street pole.

Dan was now only in his boxers. When he thought of the blade stabbing Agana’s face, he almost ripped them off, the tension increasing greatly inside of him. He placed his hand around his cock and started rubbing slowly, getting waves of pleasure as he remembered leaning in to kiss Bradley and stabbing him in his stomach. Agana's blood poured on his hand and Dan moaned. He stroked harder when he stabbed her forehead, and moaned louder when he pierced Bradley's heart.

The blood flowing out the wounds onto his hands excited Dan so much that he almost couldn’t enjoy all the pleasure. He released a few moans and groans, his other hand still going up and down his body sensuously. When he threw Agana down the drain and Bradley in the dumpster, he was so close to reaching his climax. He gave himself a few more rubs, breathing heavily, remembering the blood, all the blood, so much blood… to finally throw himself over the edge. Dan’s back arched and his mouth opened wider. He broke into a loud moan, and as he came, he felt his whole body shiver and was seized by wellness.

His back melted back into the mattress. His whole body was sweaty and his breath was heavy. He smirked to himself. 2 down, 14 to go…

Dan imagined the two bodies, Agana’s and Bradley’s, lying on both side of him in his bed. Their dead eyes stared straight back at him, and their purple and cold skin brushed against his whenever he moved. He penetrated his fingers inside every wound of his victims. He pounded in deeper, regularly drawing them back to admire the dark blood on them. He licked them sensually, pushing them to the back of his throat. And he started again. He grabbed his penknife and gashed every inch of their body, again and again, until his bed became nothing more than a meat display. 

“Dan?” 

He froze. He opened his eyes immediately. His heart was pounding, his body sweating.

It was Phil. He had just knocked on the door. Dan looked around himself. “Fuck!” he thought. He jumped under his blankets.

“Um... What..?” Dan answered, trying to hide his heavy breath.

Phil opened the door and got in the room. When he saw Dan's red cheeks and sweaty face, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay..?” Phil asked.

“Ye-yeah...” Dan breathed out, unable to stop the pleasurable thoughts from seizing him once again.

Phil shook his head lightly.

“They delivered a package for you while you were out.”

Phil was holding a small brown post package in his hands. 

“Oh.” Dan said, swallowing hard. “T-thanks. You can leave it there.”

Phil left the package on the floor where Dan pointed. He turned back to the door to leave, but before he left, he looked at Dan again and said:

“You sure you're okay?”

“Yes!” Dan insisted. “Bye, now!”

Phil finally exited the room. 

“Damn it, Phil!” Dan exclaimed under his breath.

He turned to the side. He wiped his sweaty forehead with his hand before slipping it under his pillow. Dan grabbed his penknife and switched the blade. He stared at it intensely, making it twirl in between his fingers. The blade lightly cut Dan's fingers in the way, making them bleed slightly.

It made him so insanely angry. The way Phil could get in, give a package and leave like that, without even realizing one second what had been going on inside Dan’s head. It made him so mad. One day, Dan would show him. One day, he would understand.

“I swear to God, Phil Lester, one day.” he said, clenching his teeth. “One day, I'll be the one knocking at an unfortunate moment.”

And for the rest of the night, Dan continued poking the wounds of the dead bodies and licking an immense amount of blood. Though, this time, he made Phil stand at the end of his bed and witness every single move he made.

~ 

The next day, Dan's awakening came roughly. His whole body was sticky from sweat and his legs and lower abdomen were covered in sperm. He had a hard time getting up; he felt so comfortable and warm inside his blanket cocoon. Though, the smell from his messy body reeked the whole room. He finally tore himself from bed and rushed into the shower.

He felt so good inside. Every crime had felt like meditation and he couldn't wait to continue.

After showering, he dressed up and went to the kitchen to get to get a bowl of cereal. He hadn't really looked at the clock to see what time it was. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and gently pressed the button. It displayed 1:22pm.

“Really got myself into it last night...” Dan thought. And he laughed.

Usually, he would've slapped himself in the face and yelled: “idiot!” Dan tried his best to wake up at decent hours of the day, because he felt like he wasted half of his day sleeping, even though sleep was number two on his “things I like to do” list, after “YouTube”. It was the time he could spend doing his stuff, and in the afternoon he could do whatever the hell he'd want.

But he simply laughed. A deep laughter. More and more he went, louder it was. It almost sounded like a cold, sharp scream. His laugh could tear up the silence of the night. It was a pure demonic laughter.

Dan wiped away the tear of laughter at the corner of his eye before taking his bowl and heading out the kitchen. He was initially going back to his bedroom, but a familiar voice coming from the living room made him turn on his heels. 

He walked to the room and when he opened the door, he saw Phil sitting on the sofa, and, beside him was sat Pj.

“Oh hi, you're back from the dead!” Phil greeted when he saw Dan's head peeking at the door.

“I didn't know you were there, Pj.” Dan said, sitting down at the table.

“I've been here for like three hours.” He replied, laughing.

“Oh.” Dan said. He took a bite of cereal before going: “I heard you two talking, that's why I came. Otherwise I would've gone back to my room and not even acknowledge your presence.”

“Oh, we heard you too.” Phil pointed out, half smiling. “What was so funny? Your laugh is getting weirder and weirder.”

Dan almost choked on his cereal.

“You heard me laugh?” Dan asked with a quiet, terrified voice.

He paused. 

He thought quickly before continuing: “Hahahahaha... I remembered some Tumblr post, it was funny...”

Dan's voice became quieter at each word and mumbled the end of the sentence.

“Anyway...” he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. “What were you two talking about?”

“We were just talking about the Avengers when I remembered this thing I saw on the news this morning.” Pj said. “Some dude was found dead in a dumpster. It's not until the dumpster was emptied in the garbage truck that they found him. Poor guy got stabbed straight through the heart!” 

Dan stopped his spoon halfway to his mouth.

 _“Again, that was fast...”_  Dan thought.

He wanted to laugh, or at least smile, but he couldn't let himself slip through. He had two of his best friends in front of him. He could not act different.

“That's sinister.” Phil added. “Though, the killer is stupid.”

Dan opened wide eyes.  _“What did he say?!?”_  Dan inwardly yelled.

“Why is it?” Dan asked with the calmest tone he could pull despite his bright offense.

“Well first of all, he dumped the body in the dumpster.” Pj exclaimed, laughing lightly. “It leaves all the evidence for the autopsy!”

“They'll be able to identify the weapon used by the wounds.” Phil continued. 

“They'll also be able to determinate if the killer's a right or left-handed.” Pj added.

“They did it in London, so anyone could've seen them before the crime happened.” Phil told.

“And they may even find a fingerprint if the killer touched him!”

There was a long silence in which Dan fumed of rage. 

“If you're going to commit murder, at least do it correctly!” Pj concluded. 

Phil and Pj had a laugh.

 _“I did an absolutely AMAZING job so **fuck. you.**_ ” Dan thought, his face burning with anger.

“Dan, you okay?” Phil asked.

Dan stood up in a swift movement and flipped the table in front of him. He took the chairs and tossed them on the other side of the room, missing Phil and Pj by a few centimetres. He yelled at the top of his lungs, throwing everything he saw in the air. Dan turned to Phil and Pj and stared deeply into their eyes. He grabbed them both by the throat and squeezed firmly.

“Fine.” Dan replied. “I'm fine.”

He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself.

“I don't think they're that stupid.” Dan said, standing up from his chair. “Quite the contrary actually. I think they're really clever. I don't think they dumped him there and hoped no one would find the body. I think he wanted them to find it. Are the police even going to do anything after knowing what weapon they used and their good hand? I don't think so.”

Dan walked up to the living room door and left before Phil or Pj could add anything.


	7. Chapter 7

If the color red was an emotion, it'd be rage. And if rage was a person, it'd be Dan. He escaped the living room to hide in his bedroom, where he let out his burning anger. He paced, clenching his teeth and rubbing his hands together. He felt his heart growing bigger inside of his chest.

Normally, bad criticism never really affected Dan on an emotional plan. He let them slide off his wings and went on with his life.

But Pj and Phil, his own best friends, had touched something different. It wasn't just some hater comment or stranger critic about anything. Sure, considering what they were moaning about and why they were doing it, Dan thought it was completely understandable. The thing that made Dan go out of his mind, is the fact that he knows that none of them would understand.

"The killer is stupid!" Dan mocked Phil's voice.

He kicked his bed with all his strength. His heart began to grow bigger, and he paced faster. Phil and Pj didn't know where this would bring the world, they didn't know any of this! They didn't know Dan was preparing the world to revolution, to the day they would all realize that they were not controlled by any government, that they were free, and that no rules would restrict them from doing whatever the hell they wanted to.

"At least do it correctly!" Dan mocked Pj's voice.

He grunted and tossed his bed sheets and pillows on the other side of the room.

They didn't have the right to make fun of his work, his sacred work like this. Dan's mind was extremely complex and incredibly intelligent. His brain and his body were two different things.

His brain was the leader of this whole operation and led Dan's body without consulting it. It just did. His brain was like another person, but all inside of him. Dan followed its instructions, without thinking about it, and just did it. And it worked. His brain evaluated every little detail before taking action not to get caught. And it worked.

That is why he could never get caught. Ever. And it infuriated Dan to see them laugh at his work, not even realizing one second that the killer they made fun of was sitting  _right beside them._

"ARGHHH!" Dan screamed, grabbing his face with both hands, clutching his nails into his skin.

And like a needle, hatred poked a hole in his heart growing so big into his chest that he could almost feel it trying to jump out of it. It exploded, freeing all of his raw and uncontrolled emotions. He took the painting hanging above his bed and threw it in the air. He banged the wall with his fists, cursing Pj and Phil for being so ignorant.

"Fuck, fuck,  _FUCK!_ " he exclaimed, still smashing his fists at the wall.

He glanced at the penknife, resting uncovered on his bed. Dan grabbed it in a swift movement, switched the blade and pierced it into the plaster. He lacerated down the surface to form a "1". He pulled the blade out, and immediately pierced the wall again, cutting it into a "6" form this time.

He hit his right fist on the wall again, yelling an utterly loud "FUCK!"

Dan suddenly heard the doorknob turn. He froze. He didn't have time to go grab the art and hang it back on the wall or put his sheets or pillows back on the bed.

He only had time to turn around on the bed and hide the engraving he had just made into the wall with his back, switch the blade back in, drop it on the bed and hide it under his foot.

Phil opened Dan's door in a quick movement and didn't even step in. He just stood at the entrance and looked at Dan with a pissed look.

"Are you  _okay?_ " He said, irritated.

"I said I was fine!" Dan retorted.

"Then why the hell are you making all that noise, Jesus!" Phil exclaimed, annoyed. "Did we say something!? I mean, you don't look fine at all!"

Dan took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.  _"You're being dumb, Daniel, don't blow your cover **now**!"_

Dan's frustrated tone instantly disappeared. He opened his mouth again and said:

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. Neither of you said anything wrong or upset me, don't worry. I feel like I'm a PMSing teenage girl. I can't find my 3DS, it's what's happening. Making me quite angry, actually."

"Jeez, I can see that." Phil replied, calming down a bit too. "But, why the hell would it be behind your painting?"

He successively looked at the painting resting on the floor and at Dan awkwardly standing up on his bed and in front of the wall.

Dan smiled stupidly.

"Don't know." He gabled. "You never know what could be behind those things."

Phil stared at Dan longingly. Dan held his breath.

"Alright." Phil finally concluded. "You're still coming to the cinema tonight? We were thinking we could go eat somewhere before."

"Uh, yeah, sure." Dan simply said.

"By the way, your 3DS is right there."

Phil pointed Dan's nightstand with his index. The 3DS was lying there, obviously exposed.

"Oh." Dan said, swallowing hard. "I'll come up in a minute."

Phil nodded and closed the door. Dan exhaled deeply. His hand went flying and landed on his face with a loud "CLAP!"

"You're such an idiot!" Dan whispered to himself. "Fucking hell!"

Dan took a few more deep breaths before going back to the floor. He admired the "16" engraved into the wall. He smirked slightly before taking the canvas and hanging it back on the wall, covering up the number. He put the sheets back on his bed and delicately placed the penknife back under his pillow.

He grabbed his 3DS and dedicated another thought to Agana and Bradley's corpses before going upstairs with Phil and Pj.

~

After endless conversations, which Dan didn't really pay attention to, the three of them left the apartment to take the tube.

When they arrived on Haymarket, Phil, Pj and Dan opted for the sushi restaurant right next to the cinema. They got in, ordered their sushi's and sat down at the table next to the window. Pj and Phil started talking about a new topic of conversation and Dan didn't really pay more attention this time. He would nod when Pj turned to him whilst talking and pretend to listen when Phil stressed the words. He managed to end up his sushi's way before his friends.

“Hey Dan, what’s that?” Phil asked with a worried look, pointing to his fingers. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Uh?”

Dan looked at his fingers. They were covered in little scars. He remembered swirling the switched blade between his fingers and the blood that had poured down his hand.

“Oh…” Dan stammered. “I’m, uh, just very bad at handling paper, I guess…”

Phil and Pj exchanged a worried glance. Dan pretended he hadn’t seen it and turned his head back to the window.

Most of the time, he would observe the people moving like ants outside the window. Late people running to catch the bus, cars driving fast, big red buses shadowing all the buildings. Suddenly, his view was blocked by a couple walking on the other side of the window. His heart jumped slightly.

Dan got up in a hurry and ran out the restaurant. He saw one of the big red buses coming, walked behind the couple, and with all his strength, he pushed them in the street as the bus arrived. The shock hit the boy hardly on the head and he was propelled meters away. The girl got stuck in the tire and was flattened to the ground, dying instantly.

Dan gasped deeply and quickly opened his eyes.

"You alright?" Pj immediately asked.

Dan glanced outside and saw the couple walking away. He couldn't let them slip through his fingers, they were next!

"Yeah." Dan replied, getting up. "I'm going to get the tickets while you two end up eating."

They both nodded as Dan exited the sushi restaurant. He hurried behind the couple to be sure to not lose them. The girl was blonde and looked way taller than her boyfriend with her high heels. Her boyfriend had very short hair and looked rather muscular.

Dan didn't know where they were headed, but he followed them at a respectable distance. To his surprise, they entered the cinema. When he got in himself, the couple was talking with the lady at the ticket counter. Staring at the ground, he slowly approached the counter to get in the line. He waited there, took his phone out and pretended to text, and listened.

"...you two are doing well?" The ticket lady said.

"Yes, we just moved!" The blonde lady responded.

"Really? How lovely!" The ticket lady exclaimed.

"Yes! Dave and I moved in Camden a few months ago, right Dave?" She turned to her rather muscular and short boyfriend. "You should visit us sometimes, do you have a paper? I could give you the address."

"That's great news, I certainly will, Carrie!"

The lady at the counter tore a paper off of a block note, took a pencil and handed it to the presumed Carrie. She grabbed the pencil and scribbled her address down. Dan subtly tilted his head to the right and peeked in between their shoulders to see the address. "236, Royal College Street, Camden."

"There you go!" Carried exclaimed after writing it down. "We'll be home all day tomorrow, so if you want to come around, come whenever you feel like it!"

The lady shoved the paper down her pocket.

"Thanks, I'll think about it." She responded. "I really didn't expect to see you ag-"

The ticket lady stopped talking and looked at Dan.

"Hey, sir!" she said.

Dan lifted his head up and looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"I’m sorry, I wouldn’t want to make you wait much longer! Another employee is coming right in, you can pass at the other counter." She pointed the free counter to the left.

"Oh, sure. Thanks."

Dan walked to the other counter without leaving the couple from his eyes, unable to hear from his position what they were saying.

"Hello, sir." Said the boy at the second ticket counter.

Dan didn't hear. He was too busy trying to hear what the couple was saying.

"Sir..."

Dan turned his head to the man. He blinked a few times before saying:

"Yeah... sorry... Three tickets, please..."

After buying the tickets, he went back to the restaurant. Pj and Phil had ended up eating, so they left for the cinema. When Dan got back in, the couple wasn't there anymore.

They watched the movie, but Dan could only think about how he would take care of his next two victims.


	8. Chapter 8

After the movie, the three of them went back to Dan and Phil's apartment. They played a few board games before Pj decided it would be time for him to leave. He left the flat around 8:40pm.

Phil was in the living room picking up the pieces from the board game and Dan sat there, staring into space. He was thinking about how he'd proceed to eliminate his next victims, his index slightly stroking his chin in reflection.

"Hey, would you mind helping me?" Phil asked.

"I could... bike...yeah that'd be good..." Dan mumbled.

"What?"

Dan jumped.  _"Did I just say this out loud?!"_ he thought, panicking.

"What?" Dan repeated, acting like nothing had happened.

"Where were you back then?" Phil chuckled. "Biking?"

"Oh. I was, uh, thinking of video ideas." Dan lied. "Do you have bike gloves and a helmet?"

"I think, yeah. In one of the boxes I never bothered to open again in the attic."

"Cool..." Dan said. "Thanks."

"What's  _that_  video going to be about?"

"I can't let the cat out of the bag." Dan laughed.

Phil laughed in turn. Dan headed out the lounge and Phil exclaimed sarcastically:

"Thanks a lot for helping me, by the way!"

"My pleasure!" Dan exclaimed back.

Dan ran up to the place where the attic entrance was. He pulled the string to descend the stairs. He climbed them up and looked around him. He opened a few boxes and searched for the gloves and helmet.

The exaltation started growing bigger inside of him. He frenetically emptied the boxes to search faster. He wanted to kill, right now. He couldn't wait tomorrow, in two days, or a week. He  _needed_ to kill at this  _very_  moment.

It was like a smoker's cigarette. If he couldn't have a drag of that killer smoke, he didn't know how much longer he could go on. It was embers burning inside of him, and every thought he dedicated to his next victims, it was like adding gas. It fed the fire, making it brighter and bigger.

He had to be careful. If he wanted to act now, he had to be very thorough. Get every detail right and leave with nothing else but satisfaction.

Dan finally found the bike gloves and the helmet in a box near the wall. He slid his fingers inside the gloves. They fit perfectly. He smirked mischievously.

"Perfect." He whispered to himself, feeling the fire crackling louder.

He took off the gloves and left the attic with the helmet under his arm. Dan hurried to his bedroom and grabbed his backpack. He shoved the helmet in followed by the gloves, zipped the bag and put them on his shoulders.

Dan put his ear against his bedroom door. He listened to the sounds of the house to try and localize Phil. The only thing he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. He closed it back carefully before heading to the front door. Dan was halfway through it when he heard footsteps going down the stairs. Dan quickly squeezed through and quietly closed the door behind him. He turned on his heels and disappeared into the night.

Firstly, he walked to the nearest Underground station. As he arrived, a train had already stopped and dropped off the people, so he got in. Not a few people took the tube at that time of the night. He sat on the bench with his hands in his pockets, staring at the few people around him from afar.

Dan knew the tube had several security cameras capturing everyone's movements at every moment spent in the Underground. So, to blur his trace, he got off the tube at King's Cross St. Pancreas, about 10 minutes away from Mornington Crescent, the nearest station to get to his victims' house.

Dan emerged from the Underground and looked around him. The sun had disappeared long ago and left an obscure and empty sky, a simple crescent moon illuminating the pavement with a weak white light. Wearing his long sleeves black coat and black jeans, he would easily blend into the twilight.

Dan adjusted the backpack on his shoulders, sniffled the cold in and started walking in direction Royal College Street.

About 15 minutes later, he arrived to the street the blond lady, Carrie, had so joyfully told about to the woman at the ticket counter.

Dan glanced to his right and saw the house. He smiled to himself.

Dan crouched down. He placed his hands on the ground and vigorously agitated them in the dust. He stopped when his hands became a brownish color and stood back up. He lifted up two fingers and stuck them on his face. He traced irregular dust marks all over his skin before rubbing the rest of his hands on his coat, jeans, and he even stretched his hands in his back and furiously rubbed the remaining dust on his backpack.

After covering himself with dust, Dan removed his bag from his shoulders and unzipped it. He retrieved the helmet. He stared at it in his hands for a long time before grabbing it by the security strap and violently tossing it to the ground. He grabbed it again and admired the scratches and the hollow that appeared on the surface due to the impact. He nodded in satisfaction before putting it on his head. He then dusted the last dirt of his hands on his jeans.

Dan raised his hand to his face and delicately placed it on his cheek. He then grasped his wrist with his other hand. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes to gather his strength. Finally convincing himself, Dan took a few sharp breaths before deeply digging his nails into his skin and scratching down the flesh.

The pain seized him up and he shoved a scream down his throat. He covered his fresh and bloody wounds with both hands and hissed slowly.

After getting used to the pain, Dan took three deep breaths and held the last one in. He waited, the oxygen loss making him dizzy, and after a few minutes without breathing, his eyes started watering. He finally let it go, breathing in deeply. He still felt slightly dizzy.

Dan crouched down again and retrieved the gloves from the bag. He put them on, zipped the bag back and wore it again.

Dan finally admired himself. He smiled widely and nodded. He walked up to the couple's front door with a strict face, but when he knocked, his face dropped and Dan put the mask on.

The door cracked open and revealed the same blonde lady in high heels he saw a few hours earlier.

"Yes?" she greeted with a nice tone. "Oh God..." she added when she noticed Dan's poor look.

"Good evening, Miss." Dan responded with an innocent, tiny and saddened voice. "I'm so sorry to disturb you at this hour of the day, but I was riding my bike and I had an accident. The front wheel broke off and I live too far from here. Would you mind if I called a taxi?"

Carrie gasped. She looked at the bruised and sad looking innocent boy in front of her and couldn't help but feel sorry.

"Jesus, this is horrible!" she exclaimed, her hands covering up her mouth. "Sure thing, come in!"

She gestured Dan to step inside.

"Thank you very much."

As soon as both feet were in the house, Dan inwardly screamed of joy.

Carrie warmly smiled at him before making him follow her. She led him to the lounge. She pointed a sliding door on the other side of the room and said:

"That's the kitchen. The phone's on the counter."

Dan nodded and walked up to the sliding door while Carrie sat on the cream-colored couch. He slid the door open and entered the kitchen. He noticed the phone on the counter.

He almost tiptoed to it and grabbed it. It was a wireless phone. Instead of dialling a taxi's number, he grabbed the wire plugged in the wall connecting the service. He unplugged it and, using a knife in the knife holder, he cut it in half. He then removed the cap on the back of the phone and removed the batteries that he then threw in the trash can at his feet. He then carefully opened a few cabinets, and after opening the 5th in a row, he saw the collection of frying pans. He grabbed one by the handle, closed back the cabinet and placed the pan on the counter next to the door. He went back to the phone and then opened his mouth.

"Yes, Royal College Street. Thank you very much; I'll be waiting for you."

Dan put the phone back on the stand and went through the sliding door. He slid it closed and walked up to the living room's couch. When Carrie noticed he was back, she gestured Dan to sit next to her.

"It looks like it hurts." Carrie said, pointing Dan's scratch on his cheek.

"Yeah..." Dan responded with the same innocent voice.

"Wait here, I'll go get a cloth to wash it up so it doesn't get infected."

Carrie got up and left the living room. Dan panicked a little. He couldn't let her keep his DNA by sponging up his blood.

But before Dan could moan about the extra work in his head, Carrie came back with a moist cloth. She sat back next to Dan.

"You might want to get your helmet off." Carrie smiled.

Dan agreed with a nod before taking it off and putting it back in his bag.

Carrie held the cloth up to Dan's face and pressed it against the injury. He hissed a bit at the contact and she smirked lightly.

"You really didn't miss yourself." Carrie chuckled. "How did you manage to fall like that, look at you, you're covered in dirt!"

"I don't know." Dan replied. "I guess you forget to acknowledge obstacles while biking in the dark."

"Why were you even biking at this hour?" Carrie pondered, now washing the dirt off of Dan's face.

"I like to bike at night." He simply answered. "It's nice and quiet."

Carrie smiled. She took the moist cloth off of Dan's face and put it on the glass table in front of the couch. There was a long silence in which Dan admired the room.

It was quite a pretty place. On the other side of the glass table, a fireplace covered the middle of the chocolate wall. A few art frames were hanging on the walls, giving life and bright colors to the place. A big TV was standing in the left corner of the room, dangerously close to the fireplace. A few meters away behind the couch, a staircase led to the second floor. Dan heard the ceiling crack.

"You live with someone?" Dan asked.

It sounded like a genuine question, an interrogation to a subject he didn't know the answer to. But he did. He knew her boyfriend Dave was upstairs. He just wanted to cook her longer.

"Yes, it's my boyfriend." She replied, still with this warming smile. "He's Dave."

Dan nodded. Carrie looked about thirty. Maybe she was older, but her short blond hair and her well applied makeup biased her age.

The stairs cracked and Dan turned around to see Dave descend. It was the same short and muscular guy he saw earlier.

"Carrie?" His voice was deeper than Dan expected it to be. "Who's this?"

"Oh, Dave." She exclaimed when she saw his boyfriend walk up from behind the couch. "This is... uh... I never asked his name actually..."

Dan laughed.

"I'm Dan." He specified.

"Oh, right." Carrie continued. "Nice name. Yeah, well, he's Dan. He had an accident with his bike and he called a taxi to pick him up."

"What happened?" Dave asked, leaning on the couch's edge.

Dan swallowed hard.

"Um, I was riding excessively fast, and I didn't see this parked car, it was black... Um, I ran into it. My front wheel broke off. I flew off my seat and scraped my cheek against the pavement."

"You're some hardcore shit, bro." Dave exclaimed, ruffling his stubble. "Well. I'll be upstairs. Go home safe."

Dan shook his head and Dave walked back upstairs. Dan heard his own hysterical laughter echo throughout his mind.

Carrie turned back to Dan.

"So, how long did the taxi say it'd take?" she asked.

"He said about 10 minutes." Dan lied.

"Do you want tea?"

"No, thank you."

"You know," Dan cut the silence. "Thank you for letting me in. Someone would've bled to death if they had tried to go home."

"Don't exaggerate. You're not even bleeding that much." Carrie laughed.

Dan laughed even harder.

"No, I wasn't talking about me."

Carrie stopped laughing. She didn't have the time to ask what he meant that Dan strongly grabbed her head with his hand and smashed her against the glass table. The glass shattered under the shock and Carrie was knocked out. Her face was lying in the glass debris and her body was bent over the metal edge of the table.

"CARRIE?!"

It was Dave's voice. Dan ran to the kitchen and grabbed the pan he had left on the counter as he heard Dave's footsteps run down the stairs. He peeked out the sliding door and saw Dave halfway to the couch.

"Oh, my God! CARRIE!" Dave yelled.

He ran to her body, panicked. Dan slithered out the kitchen, holding the pan high up in the air. He moved so nimbly he almost floated.

Dave noticed the shattered glass and lifted Carrie's face up. A few shards had stabbed her flesh and some blood was streaming down her face.

"Where is that Dan guy?!" Dave exclaimed, turning around in a swift movement.

"Right here, cutie patootie."

Dave didn't have time to retort. Dan struck Dave's skull with the pan in a single movement, putting him to sleep instantly.

"This is going to be rather fun!" Dan exclaimed to himself as he admired Carrie and Dave's unconscious bodies lying on the soon-to-be crime scene.

~

Dan adjusted his fringe on his head as he recklessly stepped down the stairs. He dusted his hands, Phil's bike gloves still covering his skin, and smirked to himself. He calmly walked to the kitchen. He opened the tap of the sink and retrieved the knife he had trapped in the waistband of his boxers. He washed the bloody blade with the flow of the hot water. As he whistled gleefully, he dried the knife off with a cloth on the oven handle and slid it back into the holder.

Dan exited the kitchen and headed to the living room. He stood in front of the shattered glass table and looked at the shards covering the floor where Carrie's body had been lying earlier. He laughed joyfully before crouching down and retrieving the cloth from among the debris. He unzipped his bag, dropped the cloth in it, zipped it back and threw it on his back. He took a deep breath before turning on his heels and walking up to the door.  


Dan left Carrie and Dave's apartment with a huge smile on his face, still whistling his tune.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> say hello to my original characters

The sun had risen in the sky and lightened up the city. Shasha Hoover woke up with a good vibe that morning. After eating her breakfast and taking her shower, she considered Carrie Drysdale's proposition.

Carrie and Sasha were good friends in high school and had lost connection since then. Sasha worked at the cinema and was greatly surprised when her lost friend showed up with her boyfriend out of the blue. She really wanted to catch up the lost time with her teenage best friend. So she put her coat on and took the bus in direction of Royal College street.

When Sasha stepped on the doormat, she took a deep breath and knocked three times. She knew Carrie would be there and was impatient to chat with her. After a few minutes of waiting, Sasha frowned her eyebrows. She knocked again, waited, but still no one came to the door.

"Carrie?" she said, knocking again. "Carrie, it's me, Sasha!"

Sasha smiled with hope, but still no one came. She put her ear against the door and listened. She didn't hear anything. Puzzled, she grabbed the doorknob and twisted. To her surprise, it wasn't locked. Half guilty, she opened the door and stepped inside her friend's apartment.

"Carrie?" she called.

She slowly walked into the living room. Her heart rate climbed high when she noticed the shattered glass table and the few blood stains.

Petrified, Sasha didn't dare add anything else. She tiptoed up the stairs. She heard this slow, regular dripping sound. She followed the noise, feeling her limbs going numb with the terror.

Sasha stopped in front of the bathroom door. She grasped the doorknob with a shaky hand and weakly pushed it opened.

Sasha yelled at the top of her lungs. 

~

"Thank you for coming, Quest."

Special detective Quest Kadner vigorously shook Wade Allaway's hand.

"Where are the bodies?" Quest asked.

The head detective gestured Kadner to climb up the stairs. At the top, he followed the rumor of the conversation and the click of the flash to the bathroom where he saw what he had been called for. The floor had been flooded.

Allaway walked up behind him.

"Dave Evans and Carrie Drysdale. Early 30's. They were found by Carrie's high school friend, Sasha Hoover. She's downstairs if you want to talk to her."

Quest nodded his head and stepped closer to the corpses. Quest had seen a lot of weird and disturbing stuff in his life. But this one was particularly gloomy. He crouched down to examine the bodies.

The man, Dave, was tied to a chair. That chair was placed horizontally in the bathtub. Dave's head was strongly held to the side so his mouth and nose were touching the bottom of the tub. His right cheek was carved with the number 16. The bathtub was filled. It was a mixture of water and blood. Dave's head was emerged by the liquid. It was clear enough to see his open mouth and dull and dead brown eyes.

"Suffocation." Quest whispered to himself.

"Correct!" said a voice behind him.

Surprised, Quest stood up and looked behind. Two men were standing there, the first held a notepad and a pen, and the second had a tiny flashlight and magnifying glass.

"First hypothesis on cause of death; suffocation. You're correct." repeated the guy with the tiny instruments.

Quest nodded.

"But that isn't the only thing that killed the man." he continued. "See, his lower abdomen was severely lacerated. It greatly contributed to its death and, also, added nice colors to the water."

"The number on his cheek helped too." added the other.

Quest glanced at Dave's lower abdomen. It was indeed lacerated pretty badly. The water cleared the wound and the cut up flesh could easily be seen flapping around.

"What about the woman?" questioned the man with the notepad. "Come on, we want to know what you think!"

Quest turned back to the bodies and examined Carrie's. She was held upside down on the shower pole. Someone had put the back of her knees on the pole and attached her legs and thighs together so she wouldn't fall. Her arms were tied around her body. Her throat was slit and her whole face was covered in the blood it provided. Through the blood, you could also see numbers carved. "3" on her left and "16" on her right. The blood dripped down her face into the tub, where Dave's body was.

"Lacerated jugular, which would mean death followed within a very few minutes. She probably died before Dave, which would mean he looked at her dead body before drowning. Also, her blood helped fill up the bath. I believe the killer left the tap open so it filled up gradually, helping it with both of their blood. This would explain why it flooded. Her limbs were attached with what looks like the shower curtain and towels. This could imply that the killer did not use material of their own. It's quite brilliant, if I may, but frustrating for the investigation. Also, if you look closely, you can notice shards of glass pierced into her flesh. Perhaps they knocked her out before committing the crimes. One of the numbers on her cheeks is the same as Dave on his right cheek. Perhaps he has another number on his left cheek that we can't see right now considering his position. They could mean anything."

The two guys looked at each other.

"Not bad. Not bad at all." said the second. "Very good, actually."

"The shards are from the shattered glass table downstairs." continued the second. "Agent Mello will be taking a few of them to the laboratory to examine them."

"With what were they both lacerated?" asked the first.

"I'm not quite sure. It seems like a pretty linear wound, looks like it was easy to cut. Maybe a kitchen knife, a large one."

The two guys nodded with satisfaction.

"Pretty good. Mello will also be taking care of the kitchen knives."

"I'm sorry, but, who are you?" Quest asked.

He felt a little uncomfortable with these two guys doubting his capacities.

"I'm Talley. Vincent Talley." the guy with the flashlight responded. "He's Jesus."

Quest looked at him with a confused look.

"Jesus." Jesus specified with the Spanish pronunciation. "Jesus Harrigan. My birthday's on Christmas day."

"...You're kidding?"

"Of course I am."

Jesus and Vincent giggled. Quest rolled his eyes. He then shook both of their hands.

"Quest Kadner." he introduced himself. "Special agent from the MI5."

He then pulled his badge out of his suit's pocket to authenticate his saying. He showed it to Vincent and Jesus as they looked at each other.

"Oh, yeah!" Vincent exclaimed. "The MI5! Obviously he's from the MI5, Jesus!"

"Ah, so Tucker really did call you." Jesus said to Quest. "We soon realized these murders might be linked to another. We need your team when it comes to linked murders and Tucker's pretty tense lately, so we didn't really know if he would actually call you. Nice to know he did."

"Tucker?"

"Agent Essex. He's the head detective in our team."

Quest nodded.

"Anyway," Vincent continued. "Where's the rest of your team? We'd like to meet our future collaborators!"

"Yeah so I can  _finally_ have all 12 of my apostles." Jesus added.

Quest longingly looked at Jesus as Vincent sniggered.

"Is he always like this?" Quest asked Vincent, still staring at Jesus.

"Always." He smiled.

"Great."

Quest rubbed his forehead as he said: "The only semblance of a 'team' I have is my head detective, Wade Allaway."

"Wait, so you're telling me you're the only MI5 agent working on this case, besides your head?"

"Yeah, well, you're going to have to deal with only the both of us, it seems."

Jesus smirked.

"Anyway, for the bodies, that's all we've got for now. We'll probably know more during the autopsy." Talley announced.

"Though, if you want a copy of the pictures and report, which you probably do and will probably get anyway, you should go talk to the crime scene photographer, Dallas Wiseman." Jesus concluded. "Dallas is a very wise man."

Vincent and Jesus exploded into laughter.

"Jesus Christ, you're impossible." Quest exclaimed with the most unamused face he could've ever pulled.

"Harrigan, my name's Harrigan, not Christ. But, thanks for the complement anyway!"

Quest walked away from the two forensics without adding a word. He left the bathroom and went down the stairs. He got into the living room were only five people stood. There was a dark-skinned woman with very short hair crouched down in front of the glass debris. Quest saw her delicately lift up a shard with tweezers and disposed it into a plastic bag before she sealed it.

Next to her was a man. He was pretty tall, around six feet something, Quest thought. He held a camera in front of his face and took photos of the objects the woman held before she put them in the bag for evidences and ready for laboratory examination. He had really dark hair and his locks fell everywhere on his head. He would frequently fix it by running a hand into his hair, pushing it backwards and making it fall into different places.

Near the door stood Agent Allaway, Quest's head. He was a tough looking man with hard features. He was in his 40's. He had light brown hair greased backwards on his head. Beside him stood a crying woman. A shorter man stood beside the crying lady. He looked as tough as Wade but he looked way tenser. His short dark hair was covered with a ridiculous fedora, which made him look even grumpier. It looked like the hat was stuck to his head and he was forced to wear it. The short man was older than Allaway. Quest deduced he was the famous Tucker Essex that Vincent and Jesus had told him about.

Quest walked towards the black woman and the tall guy.

"Can I help you?" asked the lady.

"Quest Kadner, from the MI5." he responded, shaking her hand.

"Zarah Mello, C.S.I agent." she introduced herself.

"And I'm Dallas Wiseman, C.S.I crime scene photographer." said the tall guy.

Quest shook his hand.

"So you're the wise man everyone talks about?"

"You've met Jesus already?" he replied. "This kid, I swear to God."

"Oh, the irony, Dallas." Zarah laughed.

Both Dallas and Quest rolled their eyes.

Quest felt the urge to ask why everyone in this investigation obsessed over Jesus jokes, but he retained himself.

"What have you got so far?" he questioned.

"Not much." Zarah replied, sighing. "Got blood on the shards, we'll try to see if maybe the killer left some of theirs behind. Maybe we'll get a match. Harrigan and Talley suspect they might have used kitchen knives so I got them all sealed to maybe get some fingerprints. There's also that frying pan. It has blood on it. For the carpet, I noticed a wet spot."

"Wet?" Quest repeated.

"Yeah. Like water was spilled."

She crouched down and pointed the wet spot on the rug.

"It can't be from before the crime." she continued. "Otherwise it would've been dry by now. It most likely happened during the crime. I looked around and I have no idea what could've made it. A glass of water? A sponge? A cloth? A towel? Whatever it is, the killer probably left with it. Maybe that's what we're looking for."

~

Dan came back home an hour later. The night was darker and the stars were no where to be seen.

He opened the front door delicately and closed it back quietly. He discreetly walked up the stairs and entered the living room. Dan sat down directly in front of the fireplace. He freed his hands from the gloves, took his backpack off his shoulders and placed it next to him. He then unzipped it and retrieved the cloth. It was almost dry. It took him a long time to take care of Carrie and Dave, and the trip back home gave more time to the moist cloth to dry.

Dan and Phil never really used their fireplace, so he struggled for a few minutes trying to turn it on. Once the flames appeared, he grinned. Dan tossed the cloth inside the flames. It ignited easily and burned slowly. A little white smoke flew from the cloth as the fire sputtered. Dan didn't leave his eyes from the burning evidence. A nice smell of burning paper filled his nostrils.

He sat there, in front of the fireplace, smiling widely.

~

"Maybe," Kadner muttered. "Is that it?"

"So far, yes." Mello sighed.

She seemed dispirited. "This is going to be a tough one."

Quest nodded in approval. Dallas simply ran a hand through his hair and adjusted the strap of the camera around his neck.

Agent Allaway walked up behind Quest.

"Seen everything?"

"Yeah."

He rubbed his forehead and jerked back at Dallas.

"Don't forget to send the reports with the pictures."

Dallas' lips simply stretched into a smile. Quest turned back to Wade.

"Want to talk to Sasha?"

He glanced at the crying lady standing next to Tucker Essex. Quest sighed and approached the ginger woman.

"Good morning, Miss," he said, forcing a polite smile. "I'm Agent Quest Kadner from the MI5," he showed her his badge, "and I would like to ask you a few questions."

Sasha talked between a few sobs.

"They already asked me questions..."

"Yes, miss, but we both have different procedures that must be respected. It will be short, I promise."

Sasha agreed quietly as Essex sniffled loudly next to them.

"Did you know the victims well?" Quest started off.

"Uh, I knew Carrie quite well."

She stopped to bring the oxygen back into her lungs.

"But that was back in high school. We had lost connection. We saw each other yesterday in the cinema I work at, she was with her boyfriend... Dave, I think? Anyway, we talked briefly. She invited me to her house, gave me her address and then they left..."

"Do you know if Carrie, or maybe Dave, had any enemies? Anyone that would wish them misfortune?" Quest continued.

"No, of course not!" Sasha almost immediately disabused. "Carrie was beloved at school. She was friends with practically everyone there, she didn't have any enemies. Although, as I said, I didn't know Dave. So I can't really tell."

Quest rubbed his chin.

"I think that will do it. Thank you very much, ma'am. I am very sorry for your loss."

Quest and Wade exited the crime scene as Tucker grunted. On the porch, Quest asked:

"Have you talked to the neighbour?"

"Yeah, it was an old lady. She said these two always fought, so screams weren't unusual when it came from their flat, apparently. She heard a lot of screaming last night, but didn't pay any attention to it."

Quest took a long breath.

"Essex doesn't seem to like us much." He pointed out.

"Ah," Wade sighed. "He's just a grumpy fellow. I've worked with him on a lot of cases. He just doesn't appreciate when we get invested. He gets so butt hurt. He wanted to be a MI5 agent but I guess it just didn't work out. He’s jealous because I’m younger than him and I’m one. So now he hates us."

"I'll have to get used to them." Quest laughed.

~

"What are you doing?"

Dan warmed his hand to the flames of the burning cloth as Phil entered the room, intrigued by the weird smell of burnt paper that had suddenly perfumed the house.

"I'm freezing." Dan casually replied, his eyes still locked on the flickering flames.

"It's not even cold." Phil retorted, confused.

"It's chilly outside."

"You went out?"

Dan nodded, still not looking at Phil.

"Are you burning something? It smells funny..."

"Wood," Dan lied.

"But, Dan, it's a gas fi- wow, what happened to you!?"

Dan had stood up and turned around in a swift movement to face Phil. He had put his bag back on his shoulders.

"What?" Dan questioned, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Are you kidding?" Phil exclaimed with wide eyes. "Have you seen your face?"

Dan suddenly remembered he had covered himself in dirt and intentionally injured his face.

"Oh, that?" Dan said, pointing to the bloody scratch on his cheek.

"Mostly," Phil replied. "What happened?"

"Well," Dan explained with a calm tone. "Apparently it is dangerous to walk up the stairs from the Underground."

Phil chuckled.

"Ouch," Phil scoffed. "Also it seems the Underground stairs aren't very clean."

Dan unconsciously wiped some dirt off his forehead.

"Yeah," Dan giggled.

He glanced back at the fireplace. The white cloth had become black, but still hadn't turned to ashes.

"I'll take a shower and I will put the fire out after, okay?" Dan said to Phil.

"Alright," Phil agreed. "But it's still not even cold-"

"Shut up," Dan tittered as he left his friend alone in the living room.

"It's a  _gas_  fire!"

"Shut up!"

Phil shook his head as he grinned to himself. He stared at the fire for a few seconds. He saw this black mass inside the sputtering flames. He frowned. He wondered what it could be, but he didn't search further. He was sleepy and his brain was too fuzzy for reflection.

Phil was too used to Dan acting weird and telling absurdities to notice anything different in his behaviour.

Maybe it was a good thing.


	10. Chapter 10

The lull had settled in Dan's scatty world. Phil barely noticed the sudden phlegmatic manners in his friend's behaviour, and didn't bring his mind to even question it. Because, honestly, Dan Howell was one very complex human being.

The days that followed Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans' deaths, the tension had dropped. Perhaps not inside London citizens, who were mostly frightened by this shocking announcement that had doomed on them on that peaceful Friday afternoon. But inside of Dan, it brought bliss.

For three days, Dan's mind hadn't played any tricky games with him. For three days, murder hadn't even crossed his heavy thoughts. Even when he heard about his two last victims on the news, nothing inside of him had triggered. He had sat on the sofa, comfortably snuggled inside his sweatpants and sweater and his warm cup of tea resting in between both hands desperately trying to fight the cold weather when the new appeared on his television.

Phil, who had been seated next to him at that moment, had shivered out of fear and disgust. He had expressed his rather peculiar hate for murder, dropping the words "Agana Baldwin" and "Bradley Cox" now and then in his animated speech. Dan didn't flinch. He simply listened to his friend blabber about the fact that it had been three murders and one abduction in the space of only three very little days, and that he wondered if this would go on for much longer.

Dan guessed Phil had never heard of so many gory murders in so little time, and didn't argue. He didn't feel angry to the slightest, or even offended. He simply sipped his tea peacefully, waiting for his friend to quieten down.

On Sunday morning, the two of them reviewed their planning for the radio show. Dan was already sitting at the table, reading the sheet with concentration when Phil came back into the lounge and hit his hand on the table. Dan jumped and put down the paper.

Phil held his phone in his right hand.

"For the hash tag this week," Phil specified when he saw Dan's puzzled eyes glancing at his phone. "I've written down some things that have happened to us this week that could be a good theme."

Dan nodded Phil to go on.

"There's the awkward cinema situation."

Dan had a small laugh filled with half humor, half embarrassment. He had managed to drop all of his popcorn on the floor trying to climb up the cinema's darkened stairs as everybody watched.

"Alternatively?" Dan asked, rubbing his forehead to brush away the embarrassment.

"Well, to be honest," Phil sniggered. "I only wrote two things."

Dan sighed.

"Of course you did, what's the second?"

"Your newest video about psycho thoughts."

Dan felt his guts tighten.

"M-my video?" He stuttered.

"Yeah, and I personally think that's way better than the cinema thing."

Phil smiled widely with excitement.

"And... and we wouldn't ask them about who they saw die, of course not, because you know, it's not a group therapy for assassins. No, I thought we could focus on the daydreaming. Ask them if they've ever had a daydream that confused them, and if so what was it. That'd be cool, no? The hash tag could be something like '#MyWeirdDayDream". What do you think?"

Dan couldn't feel his body. It had turned numb. He couldn't move, he wasn't sure he was even  _breathing_. He stared at Phil for a long time and watched his lips move without hearing anything. Perhaps he had turned deaf, he didn't know. He only saw Phil. And his thin lips moving. And the more he talked, the more his lips grew bigger. They slowly melted, like the rest of his face. He melted like acid had been poured all over his body, blood flowing on the wooden floor like a river, a shrieking white noise being the only thing Dan could distinct. He felt his own lips move and whisper the word 'sixteen', but he couldn't hear himself since the white noise was piercing his eardrums.

"Dan?"

He was torn away from his daydream. His ears seemed to work again and Phil looked insanely healthy and in one piece. He felt his body again and managed to stutter the words out.

"Um, m-my video, yeah, um, that... that sounds, um, great, yeah."

"Great!" Phil exclaimed, slamming another hand on the table, making Dan jump harder this time. "So I guess you could introduce the subject, and then start with your own example- nothing too gory, please- and then we'll just have to wait for the calls and tweets!"

Dan swallowed hard.

"Great, I guess..."

"Now I'll just have to think about my own." Phil said more to himself than to his friend.

He retrieved the planning sheet and left the lounge without looking at Dan.

He stayed there and stared at the emptiness for what seemed like hours to him. He hardly swallowed his saliva, his sweaty hands shaking nervously on the table. The wave of panic that had crashed over him paralyzed his limbs.

_"Does Phil know? Is he trying to make me admit my crimes? Is he trying to publicly humiliate me..? Expose me?!"_

Dan stood up in a swift movement, hitting his lap under the table. He was just being paranoid, he knew it. Phil couldn't possibly know what he had done... or could he?

Dan stumbled amongst the chairs on his way out of the lounge. He jogged to the toilet and locked himself in. He glanced at his face in the mirror. His features were flushed. He opened the tap with jittering hands and quickly splashed his face with water. He looked up.

"He doesn't know, Dan." he whispered to himself, staring into his own brown eyes. "He doesn't know!"

His palms repeatedly smashed against his temples.

"He doesn't know!  _He doesn't know!_ " he kept saying again and again.

Dan violently hit his palms against the counter, unable to contain his paranoia. He recoiled when an unpleasant stinging feeling struck his right palm.

A string of blood gushed on the white counter. Dan hastily looked at his cut up palm. He hissed slowly. Clearly, it wasn't a good idea to smash your hands on the counter when a razor lied there.

The wound wasn't too deep, but it was bleeding enough for Dan to be alarmed. He briskly opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He poured it over his wound. The liquid reacted immediately with his injury and cleaned it from possible bacteria. He observed the foam multiply the more and more it bled. He smirked to himself before finally washing it off his hands.

He dried his palm with a towel and left the bathroom. His moment of paranoia drifted away from his mind and he completely forgot about it. Dan wasn't one for giving up. He knew perfectly what he had to do. He was only getting started, and he would show everyone what he's capable of. It's not some stupid little radio show, or  _Phil Lester,_ who would make him lose his mind.

Oh, certainly not.

He would make  _them_  lose  _theirs_.

~

The song ended and Dan turned the microphones back on. He looked at Phil, and his only response was a brief nod. Dan then stared directly into the camera in front of him, and spoke.

"So, Phil, you know how every week something weird happens to us."

"Yeah."

Phil's low voice resonated into the headphones.

"Yeah, well, this week, it kind of surpasses the borderline of weirdness."

"Does it?"

Dan gave a humourless laugh.

"Yup. So you know how everyone kind of, you know, dreams about things. Not in a like, sleeping way, I mean as in being completely awake."

"Day dreaming?"

"Yeah, exactly!"

Dan inwardly rolled his eyes at the little 'I don't know what's going on, please explain' game they were doing for the sake of the radio.

"Well, strangely, I do that a lot."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. Do you do that? Is that just me?"

"No, I do that too. Your mind kind of drifts away to a different universe."

"Exactly! Usually, most people day dream about, you know, dating Zayn Malik or like being Beyoncé..."

"My day dreams are all about Sarah Michele Gellar." Phil cut.

"Yeah, well," Dan sheepishly laughed.

He swallowed quickly, trying to hide how delicate what he was about to mention actually was.

"Mines are just... disturbing."

There was an almost undetectable silence in which Dan glanced at his feet.

"What do you mean?"

"Well you know how, in unfortunate situations, people start to think of the worst scenario that could happen?"

"Mmh-mmh."

"Well, my brain does that... but with the most innocent situations of my life. For example, I'll be with a friend and BAM; my brain will start imagining all sorts of thing like, 'what if he died right here, under my eyes.'"

Phil giggled into the microphone, and it softened Dan a bit. He felt a little more comfortable, and decided to go on.

"Just the other day, we were innocently sat in the lounge watching TV, remember? And I said something, and you laughed, and my brain drifted away at that moment, and you kept laughing and laughing and suddenly you started choking. You kept choking and coughing deeply in front of my eyes and then you just collapsed on the floor. You were dead. You had choked to death."

Dan laughed, like it was just one funny memory he had shared with his friend, but his laugh died slowly when he noticed Phil's, and the whole crew's horrified faces.

"You just... imagined me die..?" Phil stuttered.

Dan suddenly realized his enormous mistake of over sharing.

"That's... that's what my mind gets to every once in a while. It's not personal, Phil, it's not like it was something I  _wished_ I had daydreamed about. It's a thing, I did my research, it's a real thing.  _L'appel du vide_ , Phil. Only, nobody listens to it. But it's a thing."

Dan looked at the ground in panic.

Phil was still staring at him with his blue eyes filled with horror. The whole studio was silent. Dan kept inwardly punching himself in the face for over sharing. He knew, he  _knew_  it was a bad choice of subject!

He quickly rubbed his forehead and licked his lips.

"So, this brings us the conversation this week! What weird daydream have you had? Did you imagine you were friends with a celebrity? Did you imagine something else? Let us know by texting us, you can call us in, or you can tweet us using the hash tag 'MyWeirdDayDream'. Now here's a video made by Tania and friends!"

Dan started the video and he saw the light of the camera turn off. They both removed the headphones from their ears and Dan didn't even dare look at Phil. He simply bit his lip, pretending he was busy by moving papers on the desk.

"What the hell was that?"

Phil spoke after a short silence. Dan stopped moving the papers and his skin crawled. He straightened up and faced Phil.

"You told me to tell one of my daydreams!" Dan exclaimed desperately.

"Yeah but not  _that_!" He retorted.

Horror was now mixed to anger in Phil's blue eyes. Dan stared at his feet again. He felt like a child being told off by his mother.

"Phil, it's not  _personal_!" Dan repeated, a tone of anger raising in his voice. "You've seen my video, I can't control it!"

"Yeah, but what a freaking great example you chose!" Phil exclaimed. "If you really wanted to tell me  _that_ , you could've said it off the radio. That was just inappropriate!"

Dan inwardly scoffed.

 _"If you knew, if you only KNEW all the other things I saw happen to your poor little self, that look of horror wouldn't even translate what you'd feel._ "

Dan blew the air out of his nose and his fists clenched tightly. He held one up and struck Phil across the jaw with it. He clutched his face in pain as he collapsed on the ground. Dan climbed onto his torso and stabilized him on the ground. He hit his fists multiple times against Phil's aching and vulnerable face. He suddenly stopped, and Phil deeply coughed and spat the blood out. His face was now covered in painful bruises and thick red blood. Dan grabbed Phil's hair tightly and pulled behind. He reached for a pen on the desk and scribbled over Phil's bruised forehead.

"Six. Fucking. Teen." Dan snarled.

Dan shook his head lightly.

"I'm sorry..." he simply whispered. "The cinema incident would've been better, I guess..."

The anger slowly rubbed off Phil's face and a grin soon replaced his bitter look.

"Look, forget about it, okay." Phil replied with a calm tone. "I should've expected something like this when I suggested this subject."

Phil sighed deeply.

"Just don't mention it again, okay?" He continued as he put his headphones back on. "People who listen to the radio are not like the people who watch your videos; they  _will_  think you're some kind of psychopath."

Dan's mouth became extremely dry. His throat tightened and his eyes widened as big as the moon.

"Okay..." he simply muttered.

The song ended and the cameras turned back on. Phil took it away immediately as Dan drowned into his thoughts.

_"They'd be right, then. I **am**  a psycho."_

~

Seven out of the ten chairs around the reunion table were taken. Quest was sitting on the left side alongside Zarah Mello and Dallas Wiseman. In front of him, the two forensics he had met a few days ago, Vincent Talley and Jesus Harrigan, were sitting on the right side. The two heads, Tucker Essex and Wade Allaway both sat at the ends. Files were spread around the table and people simultaneously examined them.

"Case for double murder of Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans," began Tucker Essex with a raspy voice. "Harrigan, Talley, take it away."

"Sure." They both agreed.

"After the autopsy, we were able to determine the approximate time of death of both victims." Vincent said. "We estimate the first victim's death was around 10:40pm, and the second around 11:30pm."

"First victim had bruises and medium lacerations on her face." Jesus continued. "She had shards of glass in them. The numbers '3' and '16' were carved into each of her cheeks. Her jugular was lacerated as well. Also bruised on the back of her knees and on her thighs and legs, due to being tied up. No fingerprints were left on her body, nothing under her fingernails, as well as no sign of sexual assault."

"As for the second victim, bruised on the back of the head. He was hit with something heavy and circular, perhaps that bloody pan we found at the crime scene. Bruised on his wrists and ankles, due to being tied up. His abdomen was lacerated. The numbers '4' and '16' were carved into each of his cheeks. If there were fingerprints, they were washed away by the water."

The other agents nodded when the forensics ended up their report.

"Mello," Essex proceeded.

"Well," Zarah said. "For the shards Jesus mentioned, they came from the glass table in the living room. The killer most definitely knocked the first victim out by hitting her head on the table, causing it to shatter."

Dallas Wiseman took the photographs of the crime scene out of a brown envelope and spread them across the reunion table.

"The shards that had blood stains were analysed and proved to be the first victim's, so the killer did not get injured in that process. As for the pan, we tried to match the blood found on it with the second victim's, which turned out positive as well. After going through everything in the house with a fine tooth-comb, we did not find anything. Although we did notice that the phone cable had been disconnected and cut. Its batteries had been thrown in the trash can. Apart from that, nothing else. It's the most anticlimactic case ever."

Dallas elbowed her in the ribs. Tucker didn't pay attention and proceeded.

"After interrogating Sasha Hoover and the couple's neighbourhood," he said. "We know that the two victims had an abusive relationship. We also know that the two victims were beloved at school and that they didn't have enemies."

"Only the first victim was beloved at school." Quest interrupted with a calm voice. "Sasha Hoover didn't know Dave Evans. She was friends with Carrie Drysdale in high school. Also, we don't even know if this is true. She could have been loved by a lot of people for the simple reasons that she was pretty and popular. We only got one person's point of view, how can we be sure of that?"

Tucker's features hardened and he clenched his teeth.

"Right then," Tucker grunted.

Quest glanced at Wade.

"We're here for linked murders." Wade intervened. "So why don't we start digging on that."

Zarah, Dallas, Jesus and Vincent all nodded, except for Tucker who was too busy fuming of rage and embarrassment.

"We linked Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans' murders to a different case which happened a day before." Zarah explained. "Bradley Cox. His body was found in a dumpster as it was being emptied in the truck. Was stabbed through the stomach and through the heart."

"And where is the connection?"

"The numbers." Dallas announced.

"What about them?"

"Bradley Cox's cheeks had numbers similar to Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans'. '2' and '16' were engraved in his flesh. This is probably the killer's mark."

There was a moment of silence.

"The killer is most definitely following some kind of pattern." Quest suggested.

"Why?" Zarah questioned.

"It's obvious. Each victim has a different number on their right cheeks, and the same on their left cheeks."

Quest grabbed a blank piece of paper and a pen and started scribbling down to support his explanation.

"Bradley Cox has 2 and 16, Carrie Drysdale has 3 and 16 and Dave Evans has 4 and 16. It's obvious that's he's counting down something. The numbers they have on their right cheeks correspond to their time of death. Bradley Cox died a day before the two others, and from Jesus and Vincent's time of death approximations, Carrie Drysdale would've died before Dave. Which is why she has a 3 and he has a 4."

"Brilliant..!" Dallas exclaimed.

"Not really," Quest replied. "It was fairly obvious."

"But why them?" Vincent pondered. "There has to be a reason why they chose these people! If they follow a pattern, they rarely just kill people haphazardly?"

"Touché," Quest smiled. "I was thinking the same thing. It is very rare that a mass murderer who follows a pattern will kill people in a manner that is completely random. There has to be a reason..."

"Wait, wait, wait a minute, smartass!" Tucker spat, holding a chubby finger up. "Why 16? Why do they include 16 in their pattern? Didn't think of that, huh?"

"16 stands for the amount of people they intend on killing, I thought that was fairly obvious to everyone."

Tucker crossed his arms and sunk back into his chair. Wade grinned to himself.

"As for the reason why they kill certain people..." Quest continued. "They probably have something in common. Something that fits to the pattern. Have we done background researches yet?"

"Yes." Wade confirmed. "And sadly, nothing seems to be connecting any of these murders. They were all born in different cities, they all had different jobs, never had the same employer, never practiced the same activities, never frequented the same schools, all had different zodiac signs..."

"It could be their age?" Dallas interrupted. "He kills from the youngest to the oldest? How old were the victims?"

"Bradley Cox was 24 years old." Jesus said, reading out of his report sheet. "Carrie Drysdale was 33 years old and Dave Evans was... 32. I'm sorry."

Everyone in the room sighed.

"I need to know what makes the murderer kill those people!" Quest exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table. "There must be something that makes them eligible to the pattern!"

Quest grabbed the reports spread on the table and looked through them frenetically.

"Come on, could be height? No! Weight? No! Birth date? Argh!"

The others kept silence, trying to think of what could connect the murders. They had nothing to begin with, and it felt like they were trying to admire a painting that hadn't been painted yet. They simply stared at the blank canvas, attempting to rub their brush against the surface.

Quest examined the sheets swiftly, grabbing another, and another, analysing every little detail, without success.

"Hey, Vincent, look..." Jesus whispered, pointing the three victims' names on his report sheet. "Their names make the alphabet! Haha!"

He sniggered.

"OH MY GOD, JESUS!" Vincent exclaimed.

"OH MY FATHER, WHAT IS IT?" Jesus joked.

"Jesus, now is not the time for Christianity jokes! You did it!" Vincent exclaimed again, grabbing his friend's shoulders.

"Wait, what?! What did I do?!" Jesus replied, confused.

"The names! That's it, the names!"

He turned to Quest who had left his eyes from his papers.

"The names?" Quest repeated.

"Yes! The first to die was Bradley Cox, he had '2' and '16' on his cheeks, Carrie Drysdale was second and she had 3, and Dave Evans had 4! B is the second letter of the alphabet, C is the third and D is the fourth!"

"Yes, that's it..." Quest whispered. "That's it!" he exclaimed again. "The names! Well done, Jesus!"

"Thank you, now let me change your water into wine."

"Harrigan, shut up!" Tucker spat from his side of the table. "It's a triple murder case! Not the Cana Wedding!"

Jesus simply giggled.

"So if that's it," Dallas said. "That means the killer intends on killing until the 16th letter of the alphabet?"

Quest nodded sinisterly.

"I'm not necessarily happy to have to do this, but to be completely sure that this is the pattern the murderer is using, we have to wait until the next murder..."

"Agent Kadner!" Tucker roared. "This is unthinkable; we have to stop the killing! We already have three murders on our hands! What kind of things go through your funny little heads at the MI5?!"

"Agent Essex, this is the only way to be sure." Quest replied bitterly. "Also we don't have any clue on who did the killing, so if you and your team are willing to arrest someone out of thin air, go ahead. And as far as I'm concerned,  _you_  were the one to call us on linked murders. So if you could let us do our jobs that would be grand, thank you."

Vincent and Jesus sniggered as Tucker Essex's features hardened. He blew the air out loudly and sunk back into his chair once again. Wade shrugged his shoulders in Tucker's directions with a smirk on his face.

"If someone bearing a name that starts with 'E' gets murdered in the next few days and also has the killer's mark on their cheeks, we can confirm this theory."

"Wait!" Zarah exclaimed. "The names make a lot of sense but... if it really is that... Where is the letter A..?"

Quest's eyes opened as wide as the moon.

"The first victim is still out there..."

~

The radio show went on without any further trouble. The calls and tweets they got were pretty decent and no one talked more about what Dan had said. It satisfied both of the boys who went back home right after they were done.

It was 10pm and Dan was quiet. Phil had prepared Mexican food for both of them to devour, and as they sat eating, Phil couldn't help but notice Dan's silence.

"Hey, Dan, you okay?" He questioned, munching on his food.

Dan was on another planet. He was thinking. Phil's words brought him back on Earth.

"What?" he said.

"I said are you okay?" Phil repeated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

_"Actually, I was thinking a few seconds back, and you just interrupted me, which bothers me a lot. I'm already fucking done with you being so blind at my sacred work and that scene you did on the radio show pissed me the fuck off. So, right now, I would tell you, no, I'm not okay."_

"Yeah, I'm fine." Dan replied.

"You're pretty quiet." Phil pointed out. "That's not you."

"I was thinking." Dan said. Which was the truth.

"What were you thinking about?"

_"Oh, just about when and how I would take a random person on the street and rip open their chest and tear their beating heart out and bite in it before squeezing it back down their throat and shipping it into your bed."_

"Stuff..." Dan muttered before taking a bite out of his food.

"Is it your daydreaming thing again?" Phil asked.

_"Do you really want it to be?"_

"No." he said. "Why do you care anyway?"

"I'm just not sure if that thing is doing you any good."

"What?" Dan exclaimed, totally confused.

"I mean, it seems to be bringing you down a little..." Phil explained.

_"What the fuck are you getting at?"_

"It's not like I can control them..." Dan replied, still not understanding Phil's sudden caring manners.

"I know." Phil said, sighing. "It's just... ugh, never mind."

Dan rolled his eyes when he finally understood what Phil meant.

"Look, Phil." Dan said, straightening himself up on his chair. "I'm fine..."

He gestured his hands in front of his friend.

"I am totally fine, don't-"

"What's that?"

Phil grabbed Dan's right hand and examined it closely.

"What the hell is that!?" He repeated.

Phil put his hand on the table and Dan peeked a look. The cut he had made earlier was dry but was far from being a scar yet.

"Oh, it's just..."

Dan stopped.

"Oh my God, Phil, I know what it looks like, but, trust me, it's not what it looks like..."

"Dan, are you kidding me?" Phil exclaimed with a worried voice.

Dan violently pulled his hand out of Phil's grip.

"Jesus Christ, Phil!" He screamed exasperatedly as he got up vigorously.

Dan headed to the living room's door.

"Dan! Are you serious!? Where are you going!?" Phil blurted out.

"Out!" Dan yelled before slamming the door behind him.

Phil jumped at the loud noise of the door. He dropped his face in his hands.

"Oh, Dan..." he sadly whispered. "You're not fine at all..."


	11. Chapter 11

The cold air whipped Dan’s face as he walked dangerously fast. He couldn’t stand Phil, he couldn’t stand his assumptions, he couldn’t stand his blindness anymore.

His hands shoved deeply into his coat pocket and his hair flying around at the rhythm of the icy wind, he walked. A millions thoughts were battling inside his head, and it felt like a mess. He just wanted to calm himself down. But the thoughts maddened him even more.

Phil had discovered something. Dan knew it would happen. Phil knew him too well, he couldn’t just make an important change in his life without telling his best friend and expect him not to notice. He knew Phil was good to notice flagrant attitude modifications, but he knew he never mastered the art of finding what it was. In this situation, Dan found it ironic, because, honestly, who would just assume their best friend was a mass murderer?

But this time, Dan thought Phil’s assumptions broke records of ridiculousness.

 _“I’m just not sure if that thing is doing you any good.”_ He heard Phil’s voice resonate inside his mind.  _“I mean, it seems to be bringing you down a little…”_

Dan heard his own maniac laughter echo throughout his head. He liked the feeling of watching Phil dance under his nose, trying to find what made Dan so… different than usual. But at the same time, he wished he could just tell him, to prove him.

 _“Look, Phil, I_ am  _revolution! Change is going to come! THIS WORLD IS GOING TO SEE A NEW LIGHT, IT’S GOING TO BE PURIFIED!”_

_“Dan, are you kidding me?”_

_“WHY ARE YOU SO BLIND, PHIL!? WHY ARE YOU SO BLIND?!?”_

Dan’s body rammed into something. He was propelled back slightly. He heard something hit the ground, and his thoughts vanished like steam and allowed him to witness the world in front of him.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”

A very beautiful lady stood in front of him. Her hair was jet black, thick red lipstick covered her lips and her deep blue eyes shone under the moonlight. A book and a keyset were in front of her on the pavement, and Dan frenetically looked at them, then at her again. He had no idea what had just happened or where she came from, but the only thing he knew is that he struck his fist right on her nose. He grabbed her long black hair in his hands and wrapped it around her neck. He pulled on it tightly, until the woman’s face turned as blue as her irises, and until the only thing that shone in her eyes wasn’t life but Dan’s satisfied silhouette, as the number sixteen slowly traced itself on her flesh.

“I’m very sorry!” She exclaimed again, covering her mouth with her hands. “I didn’t see you there… I must be blind!”

Dan’s heart banged hard against his chest.

“It’s okay…” Dan stammered. “Everyone’s a little blind…”

They both leaned down to pick up her belongings. Their hands touched, and the lady’s cheeks turned a flaming red. She grabbed her keys and Dan took her book. They stretched back up again and faced each other.

They stared at each other for a long minute, in which her cheeks never flushed the burning sensation. Dan smirked slightly, more to himself than to her, realizing what was incoming.

“Here you go,” Dan whispered, handing the book.

“Oh, thanks…” She replied shyly.

“ _Oniria_..?” Dan questioned.

“Huh?”

“Your book.” Dan specified.

“Oh!” The lady beamed. “Yes,  _Oniria_!”

Dan noticed her accent. It sounded American, but not quite.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Huh…” she laughed nervously. “It’s a horror slash sci-fi book…”

“Oh yeah,  _Oniria_! I know what that is!” Dan lied.

“Don’t lie to me, I know you have no idea what that is.” She giggled.

“You caught me…” Dan laughed in turn. “But if you told me more about it… maybe I could read it and  _then_ I would know what I’m talking about.”

She chuckled again.

“It’s in French.” She announced.

“Oh…” Dan said. “Well, that’s inconvenient. I don’t speak French.”

“You’re cute.” She said after a short silence, smiling shyly.

Dan nodded modestly.

“Thank you, I would say the same thing about you.”

She blushed even deeper.

“Look, I was just going back to my flat,” the lady said. “Do you want to come over and have tea? I could tell you more about  _Oniria._ ”

Dan smiled from ear to ear.

“I accept gladly.”

“Awesome!” she beamed. “Oh, and, by the way, my name is Emily.”

“I’m Dan. Nice to meet you…  _Emily._ ” 

~

Nervousness dominated the room. Papers flying, furious keyboard typing, people running, people shouting.

“I need to know who the first victim was!” Quest shouted for the whole team to hear throughout the office. “Find me a list of the people who have been reported missing in the radius of at least seven days preceding the death of Bradley Cox! Their names need to start with the letter A!”

He sat down. He put his chin on his fist and tapped his fingers on the table nervously. Quest felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Well done.” Wade said behind his back. “You cracked it fast.”

He moved his hand away and sat beside him. Quest’s fingers were still running on the table frantically.

“Yeah, well, we can’t be sure yet.” He replied stiffly. “With as little evidence as we have now, even if this pattern is confirmed, it’ll take one hell of a time to find the assassin.”

“Let’s pray they make only one little mistake.” Wade said, smiling.

“Kadner, we got it!” Dallas exclaimed.

His long legs crossed the office and stopped in front of the table Quest and Wade occupied. Dallas’ hair was dangling on his forehead, and he handed a paper to the agent before passing a hand through it.

“This is the list of the people who were reported missing in a radius of 31 days and whose names start with the letter A.” He announced. “If you want further information concerning one of them, we will proceed to get it for you.”

“Thank you, Wiseman.”

The document was a single sheet. Only five names were written. He read.

 

_Abigail Wolden_

_Age: 16   Last seen: December 31st 2014_

_Alex Saul_

_Age: 7   Last seen: December 20th, 2014_

_Aiden Danley_

_Age: 12   Last seen: December 29th, 2014_

_Agana Baldwin_

_Age: 19   Last seen: January 17th, 2015_

_Adele Cornwell_

_Age: 20   Last seen: January 15th, 2015_

Quest’s eyebrows furrowed.

“All of them aren’t from London, are they?” He said.

“Uh, no…” Dallas replied. “They’re from all around Great Britain.”

“Oh great, at least we won’t have to search in Ireland!” Quest exclaimed sarcastically. “The three victims we have so for resided in London, the first victim  _has_ to be in London as well. Just like our killer.”

“Right…” Dallas replied quietly.

He walked back up to where his other teammates were and they all started to type on their keyboards and search through paperwork again. A few minutes later, Dallas walked back up with a new sheet. He handed it over to Quest. Only two names were left on the sheet.

 

_Agana Baldwin_

_Age: 19   Last seen: January 19th, 2014_

_Adele Cornwell_

_Age: 20   Last seen: January 17th, 2014_

“They disappeared two days apart…” Quest whispered to himself, caressing his bottom lip with his thumb. “But Agana Baldwin… She disappeared two days before Bradley Cox died… What were the circumstances of their disappearance?”

“Adele Cornwell was last seen on January 17th by her boyfriend.” Zarah read out the reports. “It was midday, and she claimed she was going out to get something to eat. Basically, 5 hours later, boyfriend doesn’t get any news, she doesn’t answer her phone, neither her texts. He goes to every restaurant she likes to frequent nearby and no one saw her. Boyfriend calls the police. For Agana Baldwin, she was last seen January 17th by her parents. She went to sleep that night, and when they woke up the next day, she wasn’t in her bed. They claimed she was an exemplary daughter, that she always replied to phone calls and text messages, and that she always told them if she left. Mum and Dad called the police.”

“So, Agana Baldwin disappeared during the night, then.” Quest deduced.

“Most likely.” Vincent replied. “Apparently, she was an insomniac. Her parents said that she liked to go out at night and walk to ‘kill time’.”

“All of the victims so far were killed at night. It’s very likely that she was murdered that night.”

“Well, don’t look further.” Quest concluded. “Agana Baldwin is our victim. We only need to find her!”

“Agent Kadner,” Tucker exclaimed. “Our best research teams are already on the case and have been moving heaven and earth to find that missing girl! They have no clue where she can be! What the hell are you expecting my team to do?”

The whole room silenced. Quest stood up from his chair slowly. He took a few steps in Tucker Essex’s direction as everyone held their breath. He stopped a few centimeters away from him, and looked directly into his little eyes.

“Well, they must not be the ‘best’ research teams if they haven’t found anything yet. If they have you as a chief, no wonder why, honestly.”

Tucker’s tense mouth opened to say something but quickly shut. His eyes squinted so much that it felt almost cartoonish.

Quest turned away from him and addressed the people he knew were willing to follow his orders.

“If they haven’t found anything yet,” he said, “that means they aren’t looking at the right place. I want a record of the places they’ve looked at so far. I will go see Agana Baldwin’s parents to question them on places she would possibly frequent during her nocturnal adventures. Sadly, I highly doubt she is still alive. If she’s part of the pattern, she’s most definitely dead as we speak. If she got out during the night to kill time and got murdered at that moment, the killer couldn’t drag her body all across London. So we will install a perimeter around each place and search from top to bottom. Literally. Look up buildings, look in the sewers, I don’t give a crap, look everywhere you wouldn’t expect.”

“Heard him?” Wade said.

Everyone nodded and started to work. Quest turned back to Essex.

“Tell that to your ‘best’ research teams.”

He then headed towards the door, followed by Wade Allaway, as Tucker let out a frustrated growl.

~

The sofa found its balance when Emily sat back down next to Dan. She put two cups of tea on the coffee table in front of her and adjusted her hair subtly. She blushed slightly when she remembered how pretty Dan was, and awkwardly sipped on her tea.

“That’s a nice place you have.” Dan complimented.

“Thanks…” Emily replied.

She sipped again and Dan didn’t move.

“So… You wanted to know more about  _Oniria_?” she remembered.

“Indeed.” Dan answered with a neutral voice. “So, who wrote it?”

“The author is called Patrick Sénécal.”

“Patrick Seyné who?”

Emily giggled joyfully.

“Sénécal. He’s French Canadian.” She specified. “Just like me.”

“Oh, interesting.” Dan said, pulling the naughtiest smirk he could.

He saw Emily’s cheeks burn.

“That would explain the accent.” He continued, not erasing the smirk from his lips.

“Evidently.” She replied, chuckling.

She sipped again, but Dan still didn’t touch his cuppa. Emily was too mesmerized by him that she didn’t even notice.

“Sénécal is very popular in Quebec. He’s renowned for his twisted writing. He’s written quite a few books, and even a few of them were cinematically adapted.”

“Was  _Oniria_  one of them?” Dan questioned.

“Unfortunately not… I’m sad, that would’ve been a really good movie!”

“What about you tell me the story now?”

“Right.  _Oniria_ is the story of four murderers, Dave, Jef, Eric and Loner-”

“Loner?” Dan exclaimed. “Is that his real name?”

Emily giggled.

“No, his real name is Normand. They call him Loner because he’s solitary.”

Dan nodded.  _“Four murderers, is that so?”_

“Anyway, so these four guys are in prison for murder. But Dave, the main character, is convinced from the bottom of his heart that he did not kill his girlfriend, the reason why he’s in jail. They elaborate a plan to escape and when they do, they can’t go any further because police cars are blocking every street ends. So they decide to break into a house and stay there for the night, to then exile to the United States. The house they break in is actually Dave’s therapist’s house, Dr. Vivianne Léveillé. Loner and Eric take her husband, Angus Zorn, and their housemaid, Eva, as hostages whilst Jef and Dave go downstairs to find Vivianne. In the cellar, they witness weird apparitions. They see mutilated people and someone looking strangely like Ben Laden. They finally find Vivianne, and she explains them what the apparitions were. She says they are oneiric apparitions from the patients they keep interned in their cellar.”

“What are those..?” Dan questioned.

“They’re materialized dreams.” Emily explained.

“Whoa…”

“Yeah…” She said. “They invented the machine that makes it possible. They call their cellar Oniria as well, which explains the title. Anyway, I’m not going to go in deep details but basically, they discover that Eva is a materialized dream of one of the patients, and that she can’t be turned off by the machine. She’s permanently materialized. They call them projections. Those kinds of dreams are usually the version of the patient they wish they were. The only way to feed Eva is to let her give you a blowjob.”

Dan almost choked on his saliva.

“What…”

“I told you, twisted writing.” Emily reminded him.

“You have to be kinky to read those kinds of things.” Dan grinned.

Emily’s whole face turned crimson. Dan kept staring deep into her eyes. Emily felt intimidated, but found Dan even more fascinating.

“You wanted to read it as well, I shall remind you.” She grinned back.

“True. So how does it end, then?”

“They discover that Dave is actually a projection himself. His true self, David, a patient interned in Oniria, did kill his girlfriend. The better version of him wanted to be convinced he had never done it. So Vivianne switched David and Dave. She sent Dave back to prison so she could study him and kept David interned in Oniria, until the two met.”

“Wow.” Dan said. “Now I wish I spoke French.”

Emily chuckled and sipped on her tea again. Dan still hadn’t touched his.

“Yeah, it’s a very good book.”

She slowly put her cup back in the saucer.

“Eva is an interesting character.” Dan pointed out.

“D-do you think?” Emily squealed.

“Oh, yeah. She is.”

“Why? Is it because of her never ending thirst for oral sex?”

“Maybe.” Dan said with a neutral voice.

A short silence settled.

“But who can blame her?” Dan teased with a languorous voice.

He stared deeply into Emily’s eyes and held on her gaze. He had won. Emily had fallen into his trap. He had seduced her. She leaned in, slowly, breathing heavily. Dan could almost hear her heart pound from his side of the sofa. He leaned in as well, and their faces were suddenly very close to each other.

“Right… who can blame her…” she breathed.

And just like that, their lips met. At first it was slow, steady, intimate. But Emily grabbed Dan’s shoulder and pulled into a deeper kiss. He followed her move. He licked the inside of her bottom lip and he felt her shudder under his hand placed on her cheek. The kiss became more heated, and Dan’s right hand gently crawled up her leg. He started massaging her inner thigh, and he felt her smile in the kiss. Emily kissed more deeply, more ferociously, languorously. Dan felt her hand reach for his own inner thigh. He grabbed her neck with his free hand and squeezed.

At first, she giggled at how rough Dan was, but after a few seconds, her laugh fainted.

“Ow, Dan, that hurts!” She said, breaking the kiss. “ _Câlisse_ , Dan, stop!  _Tu m’fais mal!_ ”

Dan smirked from ear to ear and looked at her straight in the eyes.

“You were right.” He said, a spark of madness glowing into his own eyes. “You must be very blind.”

Before Emily could register what Dan had just said, his other hand had wrapped itself around her neck. He squeezed hardly, choking her. Emily gargled, coughed, gasped for air, but Dan’s grip was too tight. Her hands were flying everywhere, trying to push Dan away. She knocked her fists on his thighs and on his arms fruitlessly. And suddenly, she stopped fighting. She wasn’t breathing anymore.

Dan pulled away, satisfied. He looked at Emily’s inert body lying on the sofa.

“I’ve had better make out sessions with guys, to be honest.” Dan sighed, detached.

He wiped his forehead with his forearm.

“Now, what do I do with you,  _Emily.._?”

He smiled widely.

“Before I start,  _Emily_ ,”

Dan kept stressing her name. It sounded so good in his mouth,  _Emily_.  _Emily, Emily, Emily._ He had waited three days, and now he was ready to continue the pattern.  _E-m-i-l-y._

“You remind me of someone.”

He laughed humourlessly.

“Someone dear to me.” He continued, pacing around the sofa. “A friend. A very,  _very,_ good friend,  _Emily._ ”

Dan stopped behind her, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“See, both of you are very blind.”

He continued pacing, examining his nails.

“So I thought, why not dedicate my next victim to him? Send him a little message. Well, since he’s so blind, I doubt he’ll even understand.”

He sniggered to himself.

“But I’m sure he’ll appreciate. You know, when the pattern ends. He’ll be grateful. Just like you, and everyone else.”

He stood silent for a moment, his hands joined behind his back.

“Well, shall we get started then?”

Dan reached for his backpack he had left next to the sofa. He reached for the bike gloves inside, slid his fingers in and stood back up.

“This is going to be fun!” He exclaimed.

He lifted Emily’s dead body off the sofa and sat her down on a chair in front of the kitchen table. He then opened the cabinets.

“My friend quite likes cereals.” Dan said, searching through the cabinets. “Hopefully, you do too.”

He finally found a bowl and a spoon. He placed them in front of Emily on the table. He then opened the pantry door and found a box of cereal. He grinned as he grabbed it and poured some into the bowl.

Dan walked back up to his backpack and retrieved his penknife.

“Wouldn’t be quite as exciting if there wasn’t blood, don’t you think,  _Emily_?”

Dan exploded into a maniac laughter. He put his hands on his ribs, hysterical. He wiped a tear sliding down his eye before heading back to Emily. He switched the blade and took her wrist in his hand.

“Oh,  _Emily._ ” Dan murmured. “The pattern wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t take part of it.”

He delicately placed the blade upon the skin of her wrist, then added a bit more pressure and slit. The blood poured out gracefully, sliding down her hand into the bowl of cereals.

“Who needs milk these days?” Dan laughed.

He grabbed the spoon and stirred the mixture. He couldn’t brush the smile off his face.

“Now,  _Emily_.” Dan exclaimed with an excited voice. “It’s time for your eye operation. All blind people need one, don’t you think?”

He cackled to himself as he lifted his hands up to Emily’s eyes’ level. He licked his upper lip with concentration, and penetrated the spoon under her eyeball. He scooped it gently, and it popped out its socket. Dan smirked to himself and grabbed his penknife again. He cut the muscles that withheld it in the skull, and the eyeball finally fell into his hand, leaving nothing but an empty and bloody eye socket. He dropped the muscle into the bowl.

“If only you hadn’t been so blind,  _Emily._ ”

He repeated his process with the second eye and dropped it in the bowl as well. He put the spoon in decoratively, and positioned Emily’s body to make it look like she was eating breakfast. Dan stepped back and admired his work. He kissed the tip of his fingers and sent them flying in front of it.

“Beautiful.” He spoke in an awed whisper.

Dan then searched for a clothe he could borrow. He washed her cheek and her neck to erase his fingerprints. He switched his blade again and said:

“Now for the final touch…”

He lacerated each of her cheeks with the numbers “5” and “16”. He took a few steps back and admired his work once again.

“Truly beautiful.” He commented. “I call this one…”

He took a deep breath and nodded to himself, grinning.

“ _Blind Breakfast_.”

Dan retrieved his backpack and left the apartment.

“Now, let’s see what you think,  _Phil._ ”


	12. Chapter 12

Phil jumped out of his bed when he heard the front door slam closed at around 1AM. He knew Dan was back, and he couldn’t just let him go like that argument never happened a few hours earlier. He wanted to settle things with his friend and not let the reproaches build up for a future argument.

Phil sprinted to the stairs to meet Dan before he could lock himself in his room and pretend he didn’t exist.

“Dan!” He exclaimed before he was even at the same flight of stairs as him. “Look, Dan, I don’t want to bother you, but I really think it would be best if we settled things right now about earlier…”

He finally arrived in front of Dan. He stood there, not saying a word. Phil could tell his eyes were virtually stabbing him, but he could also detect a little glimmer of amusement, a very, very little glimmer…

“Look, I’m just concerned about you, that’s-”

Phil stopped talking. He noticed something on Dan’s face, and for a second, he stopped breathing. He couldn’t even begin to understand, and suddenly, a wave of sadness and other feelings he had never really mastered before crashed over him.

“Dan…” He finally managed to whisper. “Is that lipstick on your lips?”

Dan was still silent, immobile, the same glimmer flickering in his eyes. And Phil could’ve sworn the glimmer of amusement took a bigger place than anger.

Dan lifted two fingers up and delicately pressed them on his lips. He then admired them; a red color was spread on the skin. The corner of his mouth twitched, and the glimmer of amusement took all the space in his eyes.

“It seems so.” Dan simply spoke.

Phil shook his head vigorously.

“Did you just go out and hit on some random girl?!” Phil blurted.

Dan simply smiled widely, a tone of arrogance and challenge emanating from his attitude.

“And then you wonder why I’m concerned about you?!” Phil continued with a mix of anger and exasperation in his voice.

“Oh, shut up, you’re just jealous.” Dan said, laughing arrogantly.

“Dan!!” Phil cried, outraged.

“What?” Dan replied, stepping closer to Phil.

Phil was petrified. He stayed on place, looking at every move Dan made.

“It’s not really a secret that you would’ve preferred I come to… you…” Dan whispered in Phil’s ear.

“That’s enough!” Phil yelled, pushing Dan away violently. “I have no idea what you’re trying to achieve right now, Dan, but stop it! I’m seriously concerned about you and I can not say this more seriously, do you understand me?!”

Dan stepped back and looked at Phil longingly. His arrogant smile faded.

“Why are you concerned about me, anyway?” Dan questioned, trying to keep his calm this time.

“You really don’t realize it, do you?” Phil said. “Do you seriously think I am  _that_ blind?”

Dan inwardly burst out laughing.  _“Oh, the irony.”_ He thought.

“Realize what?” Dan questioned again, playing dumb.

He knew what Phil thought. He knew exactly. And he thought it was literally so stupid that he wanted to laugh in his face, tell him how ridiculous he looked and show him the pattern. See the horrified, petrified look on his face.

“You’re not subtle.” Phil replied, calmer.

“About what?”

“Everything!”

“Still not very clear…”

“Dan, you’re always quiet, you always leave late at night and go for eternal nocturnal walks, which you usually  _never_ do, you have cuts on your fingers, in your palm, you burn things in the  _gas fire_ , you go out and have sex with random people, and mainly, you’re so passive aggressive and defensive about things, and the second after you get all emotional and vulnerable…”

And out of the blue, Dan wrapped his arms around Phil. He squeezed him gently, leaning on his head. He finally felt one of Phil’s arms around him. He hugged his friend for a few seconds and then stepped back, holding both of his shoulders.

“Please, don’t go Bella Swan on me…” Dan chuckled, staring into Phil’s blue eyes. “I really appreciate that you care about me that much, but really, I’m fine. I’m not a vampire.”

He let go of Phil and climbed up the stairs.

“So that's it?” Phil exclaimed, the serious tone dominating his voice. “You're just going to escape this with a Twilight reference?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dan giggled.

“You just did it then!” Phil exclaimed, accusative. “You just did it then!”

Dan stopped halfway up the stairs and looked down at Phil.

“Do what?”

“Not even a minute ago I swear you wouldn't have hesitated to punch me in the face.” Phil said, a bit of anger in his voice. “All arrogant and stuff. You even tried to humiliate me! And a minute later, look at you. All nice, you give me a hug, you laugh, make lame movie references?! Passive-aggressive, emotional-vulnerable!”

Dan rolled his eyes and turned on his heels.

“Dan Howell, I don't know how long you're planning on denying your serious condition and refusing the precious help of your friends, but I promise you I'll get to the bottom of this!”

Dan continued his ascension.

“Even if that means sitting you down for four hours and listening to what you have to tell me about your daydreams!” Phil added.

Dan stopped. His body went rigid and he walked down the stairs by rote. He stepped in front of Phil and spoke in a quiet, cold and serious voice.

“My daydreams concern me and only me and I am in no way obligated nor willing to sit down next to you for four hours and explain what I see. Are we clear?”

“Dan, I just want to help you, you're-”

“ ** _Stop. trying. to get. inside. my head._** ” Dan said harshly.

They stared at each other for what seemed forever. Phil was speechless, he was almost scared. But he knew it was just Dan, and that something was making him talk like this. And he was ready to help him get better.

“Not yet...” Dan breathed, more for himself than for Phil. 

He had whispered loud enough for Phil to hear who went:

“Not yet? That means I'll be able to know what you see someday?”

Dan inwardly slapped his hand on his forehead.

“Look, Phil, I am willing to leave this argument behind us and call it a day, okay?”

“But I'm not done with you, Dan…”

“Tonight, I don’t even give a shit anymore, alright?” Dan replied. “I’m tired as hell. So I’m going to go to bed, and so are you. And as you lay your weary head on your pillow, you think about what you want me to do to prove you that what I’m saying is true, okay?”

He then disappeared upstairs. Phil rubbed his forehead desperately.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this whether he likes it or not.” Phil whispered to himself. “He can’t go on like this…”

~

On Monday morning, Quest went to the Baldwin's residence to get more information for the case. He stopped himself from telling the parents about Agana being a part of a mass murderer’s pattern and simply told them the research teams were doing their best to find her.

He then contacted the teams and secured certain zones. As they were getting ready to explore the unexpected places, Quest's phone rang inside his pocket. He picked it up and heard Wade's voice.

“Quest, are you still with the Baldwin's?” he asked.

"No, I just got done securing certain areas. The teams were just getting ready. What's up?”

“We have our letter E.” Wade announced.

Quest's lips immediately stretched into a satisfied smile.

“Give me the address, I'll be there in a few minutes.”

Quest noted the address down and jumped into his car.

“Call me if you find anything.” He said through his car window to the nearest police officer.

The officer simply inclined his hat and Quest drove.

When he arrived at the place, a yellow ‘crime scene’ tape was surrounding the area. An ambulance and two police cars were in that perimeter. He could see Wade in the perimeter as well as a few other police officers.

Quest got out and entered the perimeter. He shook Wade's hand vigorously.

“So, it's confirmed.” Quest whispered, trying to contain his joy. 

“It would seem so.” Wade replied. “See for yourself.”

He guided Kadner inside the flat, where he could finally see what the killer left behind for him. He heard the click of Dallas' camera resound around the room.

And there it was.

“Emily Fontaine. Age 23. Her friend discovered her this morning. He’s outside if you need to talk to him. You know the drill.”

There the confirmation was. The letter E.

Quest approached the corpse delicately. He noticed the bloody bowl of cereals with the eyeballs. He saw the empty eye sockets of the victim, her lacerated wrist and the letters 5 and 16 on her cheeks. He stopped himself from grinning.

“That's it.” Quest said. “She's got the killer's mark.”

“So we have a mass murderer on our hands, that's grand.” Zarah exclaimed sarcastically.

“That's quite an interesting manner of disposing the body.” Dallas pointed out. “Very artistic.”

He snapped another shot.

“You're right.” Vincent agreed. “It's as if they were trying to tell something. Isn't it what all artists aspire to do? Send a message?”

“It's very likely.” Quest said. “They probably consider those murders as works of art. The question is more what are they trying to say?”

“Well, we could start with the basic here.” Jesus interrupted. “Eyes popped out of their sockets, decoratively placed in a bowl of cereal. Lacerated wrist, blood replacing the milk... She definitely didn't die from those injuries. I noticed bruises in her neck. The size of fingertips.”

Jesus stepped up behind Emily Fontaine and pointed a blue area on her neck.

“She was choked to death.” 

“She also had a visitor before she died.” Zarah continued. “It was probably the killer. There are two cups of tea on the coffee table of the living room. I'll take them to the laboratory to analyze the DNA.”

Quest nodded.

“Why would anyone put eyeballs in a cereal bowl?” Dallas pondered. “What could that mean?”

“Well, it involves the eyes.” Quest explained. “Maybe she witnessed something she wasn't supposed to. Maybe she saw something. Maybe she  _didn't_  see something.”

The whole room was silent. Dallas' flash clicked again.

“As for the cereals...” 

Quest scratched the back of his head. 

“I have no idea.” He admitted.

“Could be a metaphor?” Vincent proposed. “Like... look at what you eat?”

“That's absurd, Talley!” Tucker spat from his corner of the room. “Why the  _hell_  would a murderer try to tell us to watch what we  _eat_?"

“Well, I don't know, chief!” Vincent uttered. “I'm just suggesting stuff here! At least I'm not playing God and sitting on my ass watching my colleagues do the entire job!”

“Hey, don't insult my dad, Vincent!” Jesus joked.

“You're  _very_  lucky to be good at what you do, Talley, because you'd be fired-”

“Tucker, shut up, you're an asshole.” Quest cut.

Tucker Essex opened his mouth in utter shock. He furiously folded his arms around his chest.

“But he's right, Vincent, that was absurd.” Quest added.

Vincent pouted and looked at his shoes.

“No, the cereals probably make sense to them.” Quest continued. “A symbol that only the killer knows its signification.”

Dallas took a last shot.

“Alright, we're done here.” Quest announced. “The next letter is F. We have to warn the citizens about the mass murderer so they can be careful. Wade and I will take care of it. Tucker, your research teams are currently searching for Agana. They'll call me if they find anything, you could go there and supervise things. You guys get working. I want something from that killer. A hair, a fingerprint, I don't care, just find something.”

They all nodded. Quest turned to Wade.

“I've seen enough. Before we go I want to talk to her friend.”

Wade agreed and they headed outside. He saw a young man sitting on the step of the ambulance, a blanket covering his shoulders. His head was buried in his hands.

Quest walked up to him.

“Excuse me, sir.” He said solemnly. “I'm agent Quest Kadner from the MI5 and I would have a few questions to ask you concerning Emily Fontaine.”

He showed his badge and the young man's head rose. His eyes were red and puffy. He wiped them vigorously before putting his glasses back on his nose. He fixed his flamboyant blue hair with a shaky hand and sniffled loudly before addressing Quest.

“Alright…” He managed to stammer.

“I'm very sorry for your loss, mister..?”

“Cloud Brooke.” said the blue haired boy.

“Cloud… Brooke…” Quest repeated with a confused tone.

“Don't act like Cloud is a weird name, yours is Quest…” Cloud snapped, wiping a tear off his cheek.

Wade snorted behind him. Quest glanced at him.

“Sass.” he giggled.

Quest rolled his eyes and turned back to the boy.

“Alright, Mr. Brooke, can you tell me a bit more about Emily Fontaine?”

“Oh God...” Cloud moaned, shoving his head back in his hands. “Emily…”

“It's okay, boy, talk when you're ready." Wade comforted.

He took a deep breath and stared back at Quest.

“Um, as I said to the other officer earlier, she was 23. She was native from Quebec in Canada. She's been in England for about three years. She came here to study and we're in the same classes. I've been her friend since she arrived here. She was funny and so honest, she was the best friend I could ever ask for and she was always there for me and she even taught me a bit of French and-”

“Yes, Mr. Brooke, I understand.” Quest cut. “How did you find her?”

“Well, we usually go to class together everyday.” Cloud explained, tears sliding on his cheeks. “But she didn't show up at our usual meeting place. Emily never misses class! So I got worried! I still had some time so I got to her flat and… and…”

Cloud burst out crying.

“Mr. Brooke, we know for a fact that Emily Fontaine had a visitor last night before she passed. Would you happen to know who that was?”

“A visitor?” Cloud repeated. “Uh, I don't know… She doesn't really have any other friends beside me here… Her whole family is back in Canada and she doesn't have a boyfriend… Do you think that was the killer?!?”

“It is a strong possibility.” Quest replied.

“Oh no... Oh no, no, no, no, no…” Cloud suddenly shouted, sobbing violently. “No, no, no, no, no… Emily, please, tell me you didn't… No, no, no, no!”

“What is it, Mr. Brooke?” Quest said, alarmed.

“NO!” Cloud yelled, hysterical. “SHIT! EMILY, WHY!?”

Quest grabbed Cloud by both shoulders. He spoke in a voice that he wanted calm and reassuring.

“Cloud, please, calm down. Tell us what's wrong. If you tell us what you know, it could help us greatly find who killed Emily.”

Cloud locked his black eyes in Quest's. His whole face was red and his chest went up and down quickly.

“Emily…” He muttered. "She… she had a tendency to invite boys she barely knew inside her flat…”

He stopped to take a breath.

“She invited boys she fancied on the street in her flat to talk, and it most of the time ended up in sexy times… She's not a shy girl, she knows how to seduce boys… But she can be pretty naive sometimes… And I told her not to, because she almost did it every night, and I told her it could be dangerous… But she didn't listen! Damn it, Emily!”

“Mr. Brooke, would you happen to know what the age range of the boys Emily Fontaine brought back home was?”

“Never very old… Always around her age. She told me the oldest she brought back home was like 32.”

Quest looked at Wade. They both nodded.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Brooke, for answering our questions. You have been a great help. I promise we will do everything in our power to catch whoever did this.”

He patted his shoulder and turned away.

“So it's a he.” Wade concluded.

“Oh, yes.” Quest replied. “Between the ages of, I'd say, 18 to 35.”

“We're getting somewhere.” Wade exclaimed, joyful.

“Oh, yes, and I'm only starting to have fun.” Quest replied.

A voice coming from the other side of the perimeter suddenly caught his ears.

“Hey, Agent Kadner! Over here!”

~ 

When Dan woke up on Monday morning, he didn't know what to expect from Phil. He knew that Phil had a strong head and it was hard to make him think differently if he already had a thought in mind.

Dan knew that if he had convinced Phil to stop talking about his ‘condition’, he would still find a way to come back to it one way or another.

So he hopped out of bed and got out of his room. He was heading to the toilet when he heard Phil's voice calling his name.

“Dan!”

He turned around and saw the door of Phil's room was slightly open. He peeked in.

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel like going out for breakfast?” He asked.

He was sitting on his bed, still in his pyjama. His hair was messy and his glasses were on his nose. His laptop was on his lap. Dan was surprised.

“Uh, yeah, sure, why not?” he replied. “When do you want to go?”

“Can you be ready in 30 minutes?”

“I'll try.”

He left Phil's room and went to the toilet.

It felt strange. Had Phil really turned the page? Was he really just willing to go out for breakfast with Dan? It was probably a trap. He'd bring him to the restaurant and make him talk again.

He walked back to his room and got dressed. He left his penknife under his pillow and simply shoved his phone and wallet down his pocket.

Half an hour later, Dan and Phil left their flat and walked to the nearest Underground station.

When they sat in the tube, Dan spoke up.

“Why are you taking me to the restaurant all of a sudden?” he said with a voice he wanted calm, casual.

“I thought it'd be fun.” Phil replied. “Going out for change. Just a nice friendly activity you and I. I thought it’d be best for the both of us.”

Dan didn't say anything. He simply smiled at his friend.

They finally arrived at a nice breakfast restaurant. They ordered their food, and when the waitress walked away, Phil opened his mouth.

“Dan, I…”

Dan stared at Phil. Here it went. He  _knew_  Phil wouldn't let go of him. He  _knew_  Phil would bring it back and lecture him. He inwardly rolled his eyes but let him talk.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

Dan choked on the water he was drinking.

“You're… sorry?” Dan repeated, incredulous.

“Yes.” Phil said with a tiny voice. “I never wanted to provoke you. I just wanted to be nice. I've noticed changes in your behaviour lately and I, as your friend, simply wanted to do well and help you.”

Dan was speechless. Phil went on.

“I'm not going to bring yesterday’s argument back, I promise. But you told me to think about what I wanted you to do to prove me you're fine. And I found what I want you to do.”

Dan looked at Phil with wide eyes. He had not expected that. He thought Phil would've kept pushing him to the point where he would yell in his face what was happening. 

“Okay…” Dan replied. “And what is it..?”

“I want you to talk to me when you feel bad.”

Dan opened his mouth to protest but Phil cut him.

“I know what you're thinking!” he exclaimed severely. “But I don't care! Dan, if you're depressed, I want to be able to help you!”

There. Phil had finally said it.  _Depressed_.

“I'm not depressed!” he murmured loud enough for only Phil to hear.

“Yeah, and I'm Jesus.”

“Alright, look.” Dan said, slamming his hands on the table. “I promise I will talk to you if I'm feeling down. If that can make you shut up about me being ‘depressed’ or whatever. But, in my defence, those...” Dan showed Phil the scar on his palm and the tiny ones on his fingers. “…were accidental. I don't cut myself!”

“Oh, right.” Phil quipped. “Are you also going to tell me that your mood swings, your walks and your overall weird behaviour are due to your period?”

Dan rolled his eyes and played with his utensils. He twirled the fork between his fingers and planted it in Phil's hand. He yelled out in pain and Dan grabbed the spoon. He put it in Phil's mouth and pushed aggressively, shoving it down his throat.

Dan jumped lightly.

“Did you just…” Phil began.

“No.” Dan immediately cut.

“You just had a daydream, didn’t you?”

“Shut up!” Dan exclaimed louder than he wanted it to be.

A few heads turned in their direction. The waitress arrived with their food at that moment. They thanked her and she walked away awkwardly.

“Now, can we just enjoy our food?” Dan retorted. “We came here because you thought it'd be good for both of us. So it'd be good if we didn't fight.”

Phil agreed with a nod and whispered a little “yeah” before taking a bite of his food.

Dan wasn't too angry about Phil being so invasive. Sure, it annoyed him, but he told himself that if it could occupy Phil and lead him on a different path, it couldn't hurt anyone. Dan simply had to keep it cool until his pattern was finished.

Because Dan knew that the worst person that could be against him in this situation wasn't the police, but Phil himself.

Half an hour later, the both of them had ended up their breakfast and totally forgot about their earlier conversation. They exited the restaurant and decided to go for a walk. They had been living in London for a while now, but never really took the time to look around and appreciate the beauty.

They walked and talked about different things, and it made Dan feel a little bit better. Before being his number one person to keep away from the pattern, Phil was Dan's best friend. And no one apart from him could make him feel happier in hard times. He made Dan more comfortable, but it wasn't always good. When Dan felt comfortable, he was likely to over share. And Dan knew what over sharing meant.

So he did his best to keep everything to himself until Phil stopped walking.

“What is it?” Dan asked, confused.

Phil pointed a finger in front of him.

“Look…” he whispered.

Dan followed the direction of his finger and saw. There was a semi-circle determined by a yellow 'crime scene' tape. Two police cars and an ambulance were in the perimeter. Dan and Phil also saw a few police officers and paramedics. It was Emily's flat building.

“Oh my God…” Dan said, a glow shinning in his eyes.

Dan walked straight up in the crime scene's direction to Phil's surprise.

“Dan!” He exclaimed behind him. “Dan! Come back here! What are you doing!?”

Dan gestured Phil to follow him.

“Come on! It's going to be fun! Don't tell me you see crime scenes every day! For once we get out and something awesome happens!”

“We won't get inside, Dan!” Phil asserted, jogging up to him. “And it's not ‘awesome’, someone died!”

“Stop whining!” Dan teased. “We can try and talk to the police to know what's happened!”

“Dan, no…” Phil began, but Dan grabbed his wrist and pulled him with him. Phil squealed, surprised.

As soon as they got near the yellow tape, a police officer addressed them.

“Good morning, gentlemen, can I help you?”

“What's happened?” Dan asked with an innocent voice.

He inwardly laughed out loud. He knew exactly what had happened.

“Murder, sir.” was all the officer replied.

“No shit, Sherlock…” Dan muttered in Phil's direction. 

Phil elbowed him in the ribs, but the officer didn't hear him.

“Can you elaborate?” Dan continued politely.

“I'm afraid I can not, sir. I don't think I'm allowed to tell you, and even if I wanted to, I don't know. I didn't go inside.”

“Oh…” Dan pouted.

“Well there's nothing to see, we can go n-” Phil started, but the officer cut him.

“But I heard they were going to make a public announcement about it. So, I guess it wouldn't be such a crime to know a little bit before everyone else.”

The officer giggled at his own pun, and Dan and Phil followed his laugh awkwardly. 

“You could always talk to the special detective in charge of the case.”

“What?!” Dan and Phil both blurted, but on different tones.

“Here he is, actually! Hey, Agent Kadner! Over here!”

The police officer waved to a rather tall man with a long black coat. His hair was black and styled in a quiff. The hair on the sides of his head was shorter than the top. He looked rather young for a detective. He was with another man and a blue haired younger boy.

Quest looked in the officer's direction and walked up to him as Wade went back to his car. He shook his hand.

“We have two curious souls, and as I heard you were going to broadcast the news later, I thought it wouldn't hurt if they knew before everyone else.”

Quest examined the two guys. They were both tall, but the one on the right had a few more inches than the other. He had brown hair descending in a fringe to the left, and his eyes were the same color. The other guy had deep blue eyes and black hair, styled in the same weird fringe as the other, but on the right side.

Dan and Phil stared at the detective. He was quite intimidating. Phil was terrified, and Dan was satisfied. 

He finally met who was after him.

“I guess.” Quest replied. “Quest Kadner, MI5.” he continued, handing out his hand to Phil.

He shook it uncertainly, and Quest then turned to Dan. He grabbed his hand firmly and shook vigorously.

Quest and Dan looked at each other for a while. None of them flinched, reading into the other's soul. Quest finally let go of Dan's hand.

“So, what do you want to know?” He said professionally.

“We just wanted to know what happened…” Phil spoke with a tiny voice.

“A girl got murdered.” He responded with a casual voice. “The killer popped out her eyes, put them in a bowl with cereals and then used her blood as milk. Other questions?”

Phil's mouth had dropped on the pavement. Dan forced a shocked look.

“That's horrible!” Phil squeaked. 

“She's not the first to die in these type if conditions. We have identified four other bodies that have been linked to be the work of the same murderer.”

A weird sound escaped Phil's lips.

“You said they made cereals with her eyes?!” Dan repeated with a fake surprised tone that was incredibly believable. “Why did they do that?”

“Most definitely to send a message.” Quest continued, still with a casual voice.

“Maybe they wanted to say she was blind…” Phil told, not really looking anywhere. “That might have just forever ruined cereals for me…”

Quest and Dan's eyes lit up. 

“What did you say?” Quest exclaimed. “Repeat what you just said!”

“That… might have just forever ruined cereals for me..?” Phil repeated, confused.

“Not that, what you said before!”

“Maybe they wanted to say she was blind?”

“That's it!” He screamed, making everyone around jump.

He turned to the police officer that had stayed beside them the whole time.

“Get me someone from inside, I don't know, anyone! No, not anyone! Get me Jesus!”

Dan and Phil frowned and looked at each other, confused.

“What is happening?” Dan asked as Quest smiled gleefully. “What does Jesus have to do with anything?”

“Jesus  _Harrigan_!” Quest stressed, half pissed and half excited. “The forensic! He's the most relaxing out of them all... Ah! Jesus! This guy,” he pointed a long finger in Phil's direction, “he told me something and I think he's right!”

Quest frenetically rubbed his stubble.

“She was blind!” Quest cried joyfully. “Emily Fontaine was too blind, the killer wanted her to notice something or to do something but she didn't! It might have something to do with what Cloud said about her being naive. Oh, Jesus, this is beautiful. We're going to catch that son of a bitch I can smell it!”

Dan twitched. He giggled inwardly.

“And as for you,” Quest turned back to Phil, “you're grand!”

“Careful, Sherlock, you've got competition!” Jesus laughed.

“Wow, you can joke about things other than religion, that's a first!” Quest sassed. 

“The only first I like is the first communion.”

“Oh my God, shut up! And don't even reply to that!”

Jesus snickered. 

“I need to go to the media and tell them about the announcement. Jesus, go back in there and tell your team about it.”

Jesus executed himself and Quest spun around to look at Dan and Phil.

“As for you two…” he murmured.

Quest analysed both of them and stopped his eyes on Dan. Dan kept his calm the best he could. Quest's eyes went up and down his body, not saying a word, and then stared directly into Dan's brown eyes. Quest squinted, like he was unsure, undecided. He couldn't seem to process Dan properly. Dan stood there, nervous.

And after a few minutes, Quest opened back his mouth and finished his sentence.

“I highly hope the first letters of your names aren’t under Q…”

And Quest ran to the car Wade had disappeared in earlier.

“What…” Phil breathed.

The two friends, realizing they had nothing more to do here, slowly walked away from the yellow tape.

“Well, that was weird…” Phil said after a while.

There was another brief silence. Phil broke it by bursting out laughing.

“What is it?” Dan asked, laughing in turn.

“I can't believe we just did that…” he giggled. “I can't believe you just dragged me to a crime scene and forced me to ask what happened… and that it worked!”

“Told you it'd be fun!” Dan replied, smiling.

“Someone still died, though…” 

“People die every day, Phil.”

Phil kept silence for a few minutes.

“I guess you're right…”

Dan patted Phil's back and they headed back home.

“They ruined cereals forever for me…” Phil told. “I feel personally victimized!”

Phil laughed heartily, and Dan copied him. But his laugh was more demented, evil.

“I really wonder why the killer sent a message saying she was blind, though…” Phil then added.

“I wonder.” Dan simply replied.


	13. Chapter 13

After the strange meeting with the two curious boys at the crime scene, Quest rushed to every radio and television stations to warn them about the announcement. He had made several sloppy reports in the car while Wade drove, and gave them out to the reporters.

Dan and Phil had gone home after their crime scene encounter. Phil had brushed it off his mind after confessing to Dan again and again that he felt personally victimized because they ruined cereals forever for him.

Dan felt exalted. He had managed to transmit his message to Phil and even meet two of the people who were after him… without any of them even knowing he was the killer. He was so excited, everything went as planned, it went so well.

He just wanted to lock himself in his room and celebrate. He wanted to touch his body sensually, languorously, and send himself over the edge, thinking about Agana, Bradley, Carrie, Dave, Emily… Thinking about the pattern, the eleven other people to come, Phil finally seeing a part of his work and Quest Kadner… Oh, Quest Kadner. He would watch him dance under his nose, like a puppet on strings, and lead him to different paths. Quest had even called him a son of a bitch! He almost felt honoured.

Dan never thought this could get any more enjoyable. He just wanted to strip off his clothes and jump right on his bed.

But right now, he couldn’t. The police officer had mentioned a public announcement about the killings, and Dan wouldn’t miss to see Phil’s reaction for anything in the world.

So instead, he sat with Phil in the lounge and waited for the announcement. They both had their laptops on their laps as the fainted sound of the television resonated in the room. And suddenly, the news came on. Dan's body tensed up.

The woman on the screen started talking about minor news, to which Phil didn't pay attention. He continued typing on his laptop as Dan listened carefully, nervous and excited.

He hastily turned the volume up.

“Since when do you listen to the news?” Phil asked, curious. “I thought you hated them?”

Dan glanced at Phil.

“Yeah, I do hate them, but, remember earlier? The police officer talked about a public announcement. I want to see that.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember.”

Phil put his laptop aside and listened as carefully as Dan, to his delight.

 _“We have now an announcement coming straight from the police force.”_  The woman announced with a serious, professional voice.

Dan twitched on the sofa.

“That's it!” Phil exclaimed, his voice uncertain.

_“Citizens of London, be on your guard as a mass murderer is on the loose.”_

Phil's eyes opened as wide as the moon as Dan's glowed.

_“The murderer has made five victims so far, and isn't close to stopping this savagery. The police identified a pattern in this murderer's killings, and we wish to warn you. This murderer kills people considering the first letter of their names. They are following the order of the alphabet. The five first victims' names started with A, B, C, D and E, and the police are convinced the next victim is going to be someone with a name starting with the letter F. The police claim that the murderer might continue this until they reach the 16th letter of the alphabet, due to some evidences they have found that shall remain secret. This is very serious, please be careful. The police are trying their best to catch this murderer. We will update you on what happens with the case of the Alphabet Killer…”_

Phil's mouth was slightly open, and his eyes were still widened with shock. He couldn't take his eyes off the screen. Dan couldn't help but grin evilly.

 _“Alphabet killer…”_  Dan thought.  _“Really? What a lame ass name… They could’ve at least put some effort!”_

Dan observed Phil from the corner of his eye, unable to brush the smile off his face.

“What the hell…” He finally managed to breathe.

Phil turned to Dan. His evil grin immediately vanished, and he faked a believable terrified look.

“A mass murderer on the loose…” Dan repeated anxiously, surprising himself with his acting skills.

Phil was still not doing much. He stared in front of him, processing what had just happened. And suddenly, it dawned on him.

“A mass murder... A mass murde- OH MY GOD A MASS MURDERER, DAN!” He screamed, panicked. “WE'RE GOING TO DIE!”

“But they said this murderer kills considering the first letter of someone's name!” Dan exclaimed back at Phil, acting as panicked as him.

“EXACTLY!” Phil yelled again, his voice getting high pitched. “YOU'RE D! IT'S SO CLOSE!”

“Didn't they say the letter D had already been taken down?”

“I DON'T KNOW! MAYBE?!” Phil retorted. “AM I GOING TO DIE?! I'M P! WHAT NUMBER IN THE ALPHABET IS THAT?!”

“I don't know, I never counted that high!” Dan replied. 

“DAN! DAN, DAN, DAN!” Phil screamed again, grabbing his friend's knees strongly. “WHY THE HELL WOULD THEY ANNOUNCE SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! WARN US TO BE CAREFUL?! WHAT THE HELL ALL THEY MANAGED TO DO IS SCARE A WHOLE POPULATION TO DEATH!!”

Dan inwardly smiled from ear to ear. Phil's reaction was everything he could ever dream of. He decided he would calm him down a bit… for now.

“It's the case to say…” Dan joked.

“Dan! Don't joke at a time like this!” Phil exclaimed.

“Oh, come on, Phil. Aren't you exaggerating just a little bit?”

“I don't think you understand that there is a  _mass murderer_  on the loose, Dan.” Phil replied harshly.

“Come on, they said it themselves; the next person to die has a name that starts with the letter F!” Dan said. “Does your name start with F? I reckon it doesn't. So why are you worrying so much?”

“How the hell would they know my name?!” Phil uttered, his voice higher than Dan had ever heard it before. “How the hell would they differentiate me from someone whose name starts with an F!? They’ll just walk up to me like ‘yes, hello, I was just wondering, what’s your name? Because if it starts with an F I might just murder you!’”

“Phil, I think you’re being a bit paranoid…” Dan replied, crossing his arms.

“You know how much I hate these kinds of things! It just scares the crap out of me!”

_“Oh yeah, I know.”_

“As long as you don't make a name change, you'll be fine!” Dan joked again.

“You're an idiot.” Phil laughed. 

Dan turned the TV off and stood up swiftly. 

“I know. Now excuse me but I think I'll go in bed as this wave of tiredness just crashed upon me and I feel like I'm literally going to fall asleep standing up.” Dan lied.

“Yeah, that's it, leave me alone in the living room as the mass murderer climbs from the window and kills me on the spot!” Phil said, half joking and half serious. 

“You're on the third floor, dingus.” Dan laughed.

“Hey! Who knows! It could be Spiderman or something!” Phil replied, a little bit more relaxed this time. 

“Or something…” Dan muttered to himself.

He put his hand on the doorknob before adding:

“Don't disturb my beauty sleep.”

Phil nodded and Dan exited the room. He escaped in his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and finally celebrated.

~

Two long and slender fingers massaged each of his temples. He rubbed his two hands along his face out of exhaustion and stared at himself in the mirror.

Quest’s quiff was sloppily falling on his forehead. He was in a white t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. It was around 2am. He wanted to go to bed and fall asleep but his thoughts were consumed by the case he was working on.

Telling the population about a mass murderer was a risky move. Quest knew it would terrify them, but since they didn’t have any leads, or at least a very few leads on who the killer actually was, he couldn’t do anything more to protect the citizens. Maybe they would be scared, but, at least, they’d be careful.

The only leads his team had were that the killer was a male between the ages of 18 and 35, and that he liked to kill people in alphabetical order. They hadn’t found any DNA on any of the crime scenes. There never was any witnesses, any understandable clues, anything. It had been five victims now and still nothing.

Quest left his little bathroom and walked into his bedroom. He stripped down his pyjama bottom, turned on the lamp on his nightstand and sat on his bed. He dropped his head in his hands.

“How does he know their names..?” He whispered to himself. “If he doesn’t know any of the victims… how does he know their names?”

He shook his head slightly and grabbed the pot on his nightstand. He swallowed two aspirins, turned the lamp off and lay on his bed. He tried to clear his mind but a million questions kept bombarding him.

_“If none of the victims have judicial or criminal records…”_

_“Or appeared on a national broadcast…”_

_“Have something in common…”_

_“Appeared somewhere their name could’ve been broadcasted…”_

_“Publicly announced their names…”_

_“How…”_

_“How does he know their names!?”_

_“Didn’t simply walk up to them…”_

_“’Hey what’s your name?’…”_

_“Does he just know..?”_

_“Stole IDs from them..?”_

_“But Emily…”_

_“She brought him home…”_

_“She probably introduced herself…”_

_“And he knew…”_

_“And Agana…”_

_“And Bradley…”_

_“And Carrie…”_

_“And Dave…”_

_“Did he ever introduce himself..?”_

Quest hit his hand violently on his mattress, angry to be unable to answer his questions, before turning on his stomach.

He remembered the two boys that came to the crime scene that morning. He remembered the taller one, with his brown eyes and his dark clothes. His head started pounding when he thought of him again and immediately brushed him off his mind.

Quest nuzzled his head in his pillow and managed to fall asleep two hours later.

~

The alarm went off. Dan jerked awake. He looked at the clock. 8:00. He pressed snooze. Nuzzled back in his pillow. Alarm. Clock. 8:15. Snooze. Alarm. Clock. 8:30. He looked at his phone.  _“Dentist appointment in 30 minutes.”_

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed, falling off his bed.

Dan stood up hastily and realized he was still naked and sticky from yesterday night’s bed festivities. He put his ear on his door, trying to see if he could hear Phil anywhere. He deduced he was still asleep and decided to run for it.

He swung open his door and sprinted to the bathroom. He jumped into the shower, soaped his body quickly, rinsed, got out, dried, and ran back to his bedroom with his towel wrapped tightly around his hips.

He got dressed as fast as he could, brushed his teeth and left the flat. He took the bus and arrived only 10 minutes late at the dentist office.

His dentist greeted him and sat him down on his long chair. He began the procedure, making boring small talk, which Dan thought was frankly annoying. How did he even expect him to reply when he shoved his fingers and metallic objects in his mouth?

After checking everything, the dentist left the office and left Dan by himself.

Dan scanned his surroundings. Metallic tools. Paperwork. Certificates proudly hung on the walls. Syringes. Blinding lights. Insignificant little toys inside of a treasure chest…

Syringes..?

Dan stood up and kicked the dentist’s small table to the ground. He grabbed the stool and held it up above his head. He aimed for the glass cabinets above the counter. He struck the metal shaft in the glass and it shattered all around him. He took the metallic dentist tools and launched them at the wall like darts. They solidly jammed in the plastered surface.

He jerked on the dentist chair. He glanced at the door; his dentist still wasn’t back. He flashed a look at the syringes in one of the glass cabinets. Dan stood up and peeked from left to right outside the door.  He was alone. Dan zipped open his backpack and tiptoed to the cabinet. He opened it delicately, seized one of the syringes and shoved it in his backpack before zipping it closed and sitting back on his chair just as the dentist was coming in.

His cheeks flushed lightly, but his dentist didn’t notice a thing. He finally left the office and went back home. When he locked himself in his room, he retrieved the stolen syringe from his bag. Dan admired it for a few seconds, holding it up at the level of his eyes, and grinned devilishly.

“Everything I could do with this…” He whispered to himself. “Tonight… I’m going tonight… I have to go tonight…”

But Dan suddenly remembered something.

 _“Wait… is it Tuesday?”_ He thought.  _“Damn it! I have a live show tonight! I can’t miss it again…”_

He beamed.

_“Wait… This is perfect! The announcement was broadcasted yesterday, it’s probably all over the Internet by now! What a perfect opportunity to drop the subject…”_

Dan delicately placed the syringe on his desk and covered it with a dirty shirt. He told himself he would give time to the police so they could  _believe_  they had more leads before striking again.

~

The meeting room was occupied once again. The whole team seated at their usual places, the new files stacked on top of the old ones in the middle of the table.

Quest’s headache had increased and the lack of sleep wasn’t helping him. He simply tried to forget about it and keep his professional figure.

“I think we should start with updates on Agana Baldwin’s case.” Wade began with a neutral voice.

Tucker nodded and opened his mouth.

“My research teams searched the first area all day long on Monday, without any results. They are currently preparing themselves to search the second area that was given to us.”

Everyone nodded and Quest rubbed his forehead slowly.

“Harrigan, Talley, got anything off Emily Fontaine?”

Vincent held up his report sheet.

“Cause of death: suffocation. Lacerated wrist and cheeks. Eyes popped out, put in the bowl with some of her blood. Bruises on her neck due to getting choked.”

“Unfortunately,” Jesus continued, “we didn't find any fingerprints. No skin cells under her fingernails. Once again, no sign of sexual assault, no hair, no body fluid, no blood different from hers… Nothing.”

“We checked everything in the house as well.” Zarah went as Dallas passed the photographs around. “Firstly, the cups of tea. The DNA found on both of them matched with Emily's. No one drank in the second cuppa. We analysed the cereal box, the bowl, the spoon, we checked every surface with a fine-tooth comb and…”

Zarah looked around the room like she was trying to trigger some suspense inside her colleagues.

“Nothing…” She finished, sighing.

“So, from what I hear, we're after a ghost?” Tucker grunted.

“Not a ghost, Agent Essex, but someone who knows what they're doing.” Quest snapped.

“Could it be a professional murderer?” Vincent suggested.

Quest furrowed his eyebrows.

“I mean, could it be a murderer that is already on our files that we still haven't caught yet?" He clarified.

“No.” Quest replied. “This murderer had never killed before Agana Baldwin.”

“How could you know?!” Tucker spat.

Quest massaged his temples, annoyed.

“Agana Baldwin was murdered and her body was hidden.” Quest explained, keeping his eyes shut to try and contain his annoyance. “The four other victims were all disposed in a way that their corpses  _would_  be discovered. This only proves that Agana Baldwin was this killer's first victim, and that they were scared. It's between the murders of Agana Baldwin and Bradley Cox that they realized their duty. It is a very fresh killer, they've been doing this for a very short time and they are enjoying themselves a whole lot. If you started using your brain instead of sitting in your chair spitting on everyone, maybe you would be on everyone else's level.”

“You little-” Tucker began, but Zarah cut him off.

“Alright, so that's a thing.” She said. “Anything else you deduced that we don't know yet?”

Quest glanced at her. He noticed her irritated look.

“Well, I know that the murderer is a male between the ages of 18 and 35.”

“How?” Zarah exclaimed.

“Cloud Brooke, the victim's friend, admitted that Emily Fontaine brought men to her house almost every night. He said she brought men around her age, which is 23. I deduced the age range might be 18 to 35.”

Jesus noted that down on a loose paper.

“But, the main question here is; if he didn't know any of the victims, how does he know their names?”

He stopped talking and looked at his colleagues. They all searched for an answer.

“Well… maybe they stole some IDs before?” Dallas suggested. “Like he met or saw his victims before, stole their IDs and maybe he analysed them before striking?”

“That's not bad, Wiseman.” Quest said.

“Told you he was a wise man!” Jesus laughed.

Dallas rolled his eyes.

“But I don't think that's quite it. See, I highly suspect that Agana Baldwin was killed on an impulse. I understand your reasoning, though. He caught Agana Baldwin during the night, it would be rational to say he followed her there. But you see, if we follow his pattern, he  _wants_  us to find the bodies. So if he had already planned to take her down that night, I think he would've found a better way to dispose her body, and, most definitely would've made it so we would find her pretty easily.”

Dallas nodded. Quest gave him a small grin.

“Anyone has any other ideas?” Quest asked.

“Maybe they told him their names before he killed them.” Jesus laughed, elbowing Vincent in the arm so he would giggle with him.

Quest slapped his hand on the table. He pointed a slender finger in Jesus’ direction. He stopped laughing.

“It’s fascinating how the only times you get things right is when you’re joking.” Quest admitted.

“What?” Jesus pondered, confused.

“The victims told him their names before he killed them.” Quest confirmed.

“What?” Jesus repeated, even more confused. “I was just joking…”

“Don’t you see it, Harrigan?” Quest exclaimed. “If none of the victims’ names were broadcasted anywhere, if none of the victims knew the killer, how could he possibly know their names..? They told him!”

“I’m not following…” Vincent spoke with a tiny voice.

“Agana Baldwin. Goes out at night to kill time. Killer is nervous, has been thinking about murder for a while. Needs to get some air. Killer goes out at night. Killer meets Agana Baldwin. They chat. She tells him her name. On an impulse, killer kills. Killer is scared, it’s his first murder. Hides the body, not knowing about his duty.”

His whole team was now listening to him very carefully.

“Bradley Cox. Was found dead in a dumpster. Where was he before he got killed? In a nightclub. His friends said he was kicked out because he was too drunk. He got killed not long after he was kicked out. He couldn’t drive, couldn’t walk home because of all the alcohol in his body, what happens next? Killer shows up. Sees the poor man unable to step forward. What does he do? Asks if he’s okay, asks if he needs help. Asks for his  _name._  Once he has what he needs, he decides it’s a perfect choice. Suggests helping him. Brings him in the alleyway, kills him. Killer knows his duty. Puts him in the dumpster so he would be found the next day.”

“Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans. Found dead in their apartment. Killer shows up at their house. They open the door. Killer manages to get both of their names. Jackpot, C and D at the same place. Murders them both.”

“Emily Fontaine. Found dead in her apartment as well. Killer is on a night walk. Emily Fontaine is on a night walk. They bump into each other. Emily Fontaine decides to bring him home like she always does. She tells him her  _name._  Killer kills.”

The whole room was silent.

“All I’m saying is that the man we are looking has the charm to seduce his victims enough to get their names out of them.”

Wade gave him a satisfied grin. Quest humbly nodded in his direction.

“So he manipulates them?” Zarah summarized.

“Yes.” Quest confirmed.

“Well, he seriously seduced Emily Fontaine.” Jesus said. “Her lipstick was smeared everywhere around her lips. Damn, we’re not only dealing with a psychotic Casanova, but with a super professional kissing hoover.”

Quest laughed lightly, to Jesus’ delight.

“Do we know anything else?” Quest asked.

“Actually yes!” Vincent announced. “After analysing Bradley Cox’s body once again, we were able to determine the weapon used. The wounds weren’t too wide or too deep. The stab through the heart still managed to end the poor guy,  _but_ , it didn’t kill him instantly. He agonised in the dumpster. The blade was too short to kill him within the next very few minutes. So, Jesus and I deduced that they might have used a penknife. It’s a normal thing to carry with you as well as being very dangerous.”

“It could’ve been a kirpan.” Jesus larked.

“Wrong religion, Jesus.” Vincent pointed out.

Jesus shrugged.

“That’s good to know.” Quest spoke. “Good job guys.”

He stood up, followed by Wade. He walked to the entrance when a voice stopped him.

“Wait, so what do we do now?” Dallas asked.

Quest turned around.

“Find Agana.”

~

The mask was on. The live show had started about 30 minutes ago, and Dan was acting as normal as usual. This time, he felt ready. He did not fear to slip words out today. He was even looking for an opportunity to drop the subject in.

When a topic of conversation finally died out, Dan stop talking for a few seconds and simply read what people said in chat. By rote, he hummed a beat. And suddenly, the opportunity fell into his hands.

“Hey, have you guys heard of that mass murderer they talked about yesterday on the news? The one who kills in alphabetical order or something?”

He inwardly smiled. He read the replies in the chat.  _“Yes! Everyone’s talking about it!”, “I saw it and I’m terrified!”, “It’s all over the Internet!”_

Dan’s heart skipped a beat.

“Is it really all over the Internet?” He asked hastily.

He read.  _“Yes! It’s really scary!”, “I don’t even live in England and it’s terrifying!”, “Everyone is calling him Alpha…”, “Alpha is literally everywhere I’m kind of scared…”_

“Alpha?” Dan repeated, his eyes glistening.

He stared at his own reflection on the screen for a few minutes. He was silent and absent.

 _“Alpha…”_ He thought.  _“I like this… I like this a lot…”_


	14. Chapter 14

“Look at this.”

Quest threw the newspaper across the table. Wade picked it up and read the headline.

“Alpha?” He questioned. “Is that how they call him now?”

“It would seem so.”

Quest scratched his stubble and sat down.

“It’s short for ‘alphabet’ and the first letter of the Greek alphabet. Clever.”

He rubbed his forehead and looked at Wade.

“Okay, let's go over all this again.” He said. “Every victim met the killer- or should I say, Alpha- before they died.”

Wade nodded.

“For Agana Baldwin, Bradley Cox and Emily Fontaine, it seems like it was just an unfortunate encounter.”

“Agana Baldwin went out during the night as she usually does, Bradley Cox was intercepted after coming out of the nightclub and Emily Fontaine bumped into him to then bring him to her flat.” Wade confirmed.

“Simply, this theory isn’t consistent when it comes to Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans…” Quest retorted. “They were in their house, and Alpha showed up. But why? How did Alpha know that C and D lived in that exact house?”

He paused.

“You said it yourself.” Wade replied. “Alpha has the charm to seduce his victims enough to get their names out of them.”

“So you’re saying he met them before that night?”

“Not necessarily ‘met’, Quest.”

“What, then?”

Wade grinned. He joined his hands together on the table and leaned forward.

“Someone doesn’t need to meet another person to get their name.” He simply spoke.

“He heard it…” Quest whispered to himself.

Wade folded his arms and sunk back in his chair.

“We didn’t ask the right questions.” Quest affirmed.

He got up, threw on his long coat and walked to the door.

“I need to talk to Sasha Hoover.”

~ 

“Where are you going?”

Dan came out of the kitchen and crossed Phil in the hallway, his backpack on his shoulders. It was late a afternoon on a cloudy Wednesday.

“Out.” He simply replied.

“Where?”

“Does that matter?” Phil retorted a little bit too harshly.

“Uh, I guess not…” Dan said, confused. “I just thought I could ask… you know… courtesy?”

“Well, when I’m being courteous to you, you ask me to piss off, so..?”

“I never asked you to-” Dan began.

“Correct, never directly.” Phil continued. “But you use really great euphemisms.”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“Right, what did I do again?” Dan asked.

“Nothing.” Phil said.

“Then why are you being so harsh?”

“I’m trying to show you that it’s not because you’re  _depressed_ and don’t want help that you need to be an ass to your best friend.” 

Dan closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He rubbed his forehead longingly, processing what Phil had just said.

“I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore?” Dan reminded Phil.

“We did, but it doesn’t erase the fact that I still believe that you’re depressed and that I care about you.”

Dan’s breath cut. A silence settled, in which they stared into each other’s eyes longingly.

“I just want you to be happy, Dan.” He finished off, his harsh look wearing off.

Dan was speechless. He stood in the hallway, inert.

“I’m going out with a friend.” Phil finally admitted. “I’ll probably be back late.”

Dan nodded slowly, still processing what had just been said. Phil fondly placed his hand on Dan’s shoulder and shyly grinned at him. He whispered a quiet “bye” before exiting the flat.

When he heard the door close, he placed his own hand on his shoulder, where Phil’s had been resting.

“You make me happy…” Dan softly replied, staring at the end of the hallway where Phil disappeared from.

A laugh arose in the depth of him. It grew bigger, stronger. It erupted from his lips, and echoed throughout the whole apartment. A laugh so cold, so full of malice. It was so loud that he was convinced that the whole building, the whole street, the whole city could hear him.

“Just watching you dance under my nose makes me so,  _so_ happy, Phil!” He exclaimed. “I’ll do some art tonight, thanks to you for giving me the opportunity!”

He joined his hands together and inclined his body forward.

“Seriously, thank you, Phil.” Dan thanked, smiling from ear to ear. “This couldn’t have been better. I really thought at first you were going to be a burden, trying to keep you away from the pattern and stuff, but you seem to be a big part of it. Yes, yes indeed. You don’t realize it yet, but you’re helping me. You’re helping me a lot. This is great.”

He stopped for a few seconds. From this point on, Dan was imagining a conversation with Phil just like he was in the room with him. Talking to himself wasn’t too weird coming from him anyway.

 _“So you’re using me to get what you want?”_ Imaginary Phil exclaimed.

“I wouldn’t say I’m ‘using’ you.” Dan said. “You’re helping me without realizing it.”

 _“That’s what using people is, Dan.”_ Imaginary Phil said angrily.

“Well, a good euphemism is never badly placed.”

_“I can’t believe I cared about you and appreciated you all this time for you to thank me like this! You didn’t care about me at all, did you?”_

“Oh, of course, I did.” Dan replied immediately. “Damn, I do care about you. The  _things_  I would do to you…”

He coughed. His Imaginary Phil automatically vanished. He looked at his feet, a very slight feeling of shame rumbling in his stomach at the last words he pronounced.

~

The door of the cinema pushed opened and let Quest and Wade enter. They walked up to the ticker counter on the right and were lucky enough to find Sasha Hoover on the other side. They waited behind the two clients that were in line and when they finally left, they showed Sasha their badges.

She examined the badges and looked up to see the two faces. She recoiled slightly when she recognized them.

“I’m Agent Quest Kadner and this is Agent Wade Allaway. You might remember us from-”

“The crime scene last week, yes I do.” Sasha cut, her body tensing up. “What are you doing here? I thought I was done answering questions…”

“Well, you see, Mrs. Hoover,” Quest said, “we somehow managed to link Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans’s murders to a few others.”

Sasha recoiled further.

“Oh no, don’t tell me she is- they are a part of that Alpha thing?” Sasha whispered, her eyes getting watery.

“I’m afraid they are.” Wade simply told.

She placed a hand on her mouth to stop herself from screaming. She breathed deeply and looked back at the two agents.

“Alright.” Sasha said, holding in her tears. “Go on.”

“First off, Mrs. Hoover, last time we talked, you said you hadn’t seen Carrie since high school. Next thing we know, you find her and her boyfriend dead in their apartment.”

“I already told you,” she replied, “she came here with her boyfriend, it was pure luck. We recognized each other and we chatted. She gave me her address and told me to visit her the next day.”

“Did she say the address out loud?” Quest asked.

“No, she wrote it on a piece of paper.” Sasha confirmed. “Does that make a difference?”

“Yes it does.” Wade said. “If you write it down, the only person to know is your recipient, unless the recipient isn’t careful enough or loses it. If you say it out loud, everyone around is your recipient.”

“Are you saying that..?” She began.

“We’re saying that Alpha might have been here before killing Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans, since it is the last place they’ve been seen at.”

“Wait, I’m pretty sure there was no one else when Carrie came with-”

Sasha stopped. She frenetically looked from Wade to Quest in disbelief.

“Do you think  _I am_ Alpha?!” She exclaimed.

“That would be rational to count you as a suspect.” Quest replied. “But, no, unfortunately. You’re out the list.”

She exhaled loudly.

“Mrs. Hoover, do you have security cameras in this cinema?”

“Uh, yes we do…” She began.

“We would like to take a look at them, please. I want the tapes from January 20th.”

Sasha agreed quietly. She led them in a different room, took out the old tapes and slid the right one in the slot. A black and white, blurry image came up on the screen.

“I would just like to specify that there is no sound on the tapes…” Sasha said.

“Alright. Fast forward to Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans entering the cinema.” Quest ordered.

“I reckon it was around 3:30-4:00…” Sasha mumbled to herself.

Sasha fast forwarded the tape until she saw the two victims entering the place. She played it and all three of them stared carefully.

Dave opened the door for Carrie. She walked in, followed by him, and they headed forward. Quest saw Sasha at the counter on the right, admiring her nails. The counter on the left was empty. When Carrie stepped up to the counter with her boyfriend, Sasha lifted her head up and they both recognized each other. Quest could almost hear them squeaking of excitement by simply looking at their mouths. Carrie turned to Dave, pointed to herself and then to Sasha, and Quest deduced she was telling him how she knew her. Dave then shook her hand. Sasha and Carrie talked for a little while until Quest noticed someone entering the cinema.

He concentrated harder and looked at the person. It was a man. He was alone, and his face was pretty much unrecognizable because he stared at the ground whilst walking. Also, the crappy black and white quality of the tapes didn’t help. All Quest could tell apart was his depressing black clothes. 

He didn’t look too old, but again, it was hard to tell. The man queued up behind Carrie and Dave, who were still chatting with Sasha.

“At this point, do you remember what you were saying?” Quest asked.

“Not really… I think I was asking if they were doing well…” she replied. “I know that after that she suggested I come by the next day.”

On the screen, Sasha tore a piece of paper off a block note and handed it to Carrie. The man behind them was now looking at his phone. He didn’t seem to give much attention to what was happening in front of him. Quest bit the inside of his cheek.

Carrie wrote down on the piece of paper with the pen Sasha had given her and when she was done she gave it back to her. A young man then appeared at the other counter and Sasha opened her mouth. The man behind Carrie and Dave lifted his head up to her. His face was still barely noticeable. He had his coat’s hood on his head and it hid half of his features from the camera. Sasha gestured him to move to the other counter. He nodded politely and left to join the other man. He bought his tickets and then left the cinema.

“As I said,” Sasha spoke, “there wasn’t a lot of people when they came.”

Quest nibbled harder on the skin inside of his cheek.

“Rewind to when she writes her address down.” Quest ordered.

Sasha did. He looked carefully this time. Carrie wrote down, and the man behind slightly moved. But his head was still on the ground, his eyes were still hidden and there was nothing incriminating Quest could find.

“So?” Sasha asked. “Anything?”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Quest retorted. “The man doesn’t do anything. He looks at his phone the whole time!”

“Well, maybe it simply wasn’t Alpha…” Sasha replied with a small voice. “No offence, detective, but there is no way he could’ve seen the address, Carrie handed it to me right away after writing it down…”

“He could’ve seen through the gap in between them!” Quest exclaimed. “He moved slightly, right there!”

He rewound again and paused at the moment he thought the man had moved.

“There, he moved slightly. In between the two!”

“He’s looking at his phone…” Sasha said.

“But we don’t see his eyes, how can you be so sure?”

“Quest, even if this is him, we can’t even see his face properly.” Wade said. “We would have to get his name, find him, and even if we do, we have  _nothing_ to incriminate him.”

“Sasha, do you remember what he looked like?” Quest asked, completely ignoring Wade.

“Uh, not really, I saw him very briefly… I remember he had a fringe, though…”

“That’s a start!”

“Quest, a fringe isn’t the answer to the mysteries of the universe, we-” Wade began but Quest cut him.

“Who was in charge of selling him the tickets?” He asked Sasha.

“Uh, I reckon it was Rad. Should I bring him in?”

“Yes.” Quest said frantically.

Sasha left the room and came back with an Asian teenager. He had blond hair and his uniform shirt was way too big for him.

“Yeah?” Rad said when he entered the room.

“Do you remember selling those tickets to that man?” Quest exclaimed, pointing at the suspected Alpha on the screen.

“Uh, not really…” Rad mumbled.

“Come on, try remembering!” Quest exclaimed. “It was last Wednesday, it was 4:00 and you were just getting back to your counter. Remember that?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Rad replied, slightly intimidated by Quest.

“And immediately after you arrived, a man walked up to the counter and you sold him tickets, yeah?”

“Probably…”

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Uh… I think he had… A fringe…” Rad spluttered. “Or a quiff…”

He paused. Rad was shaking. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth again.

“Wait, after all I think it was maybe like, you know, just hair falling sloppily on his forehead…”

Quest exhaled deeply, closing his eyes in exasperation.

“If you don’t remember what he looked like you say ‘I don’t remember’ and that’s it, boy.” Quest exclaimed harshly, rubbing his forehead.

“I’m sorry… I… I see a lot of people every day… It’s hard to remember all the fa-” Rad tried explaining but Quest gestured him to shut up. 

Rad bit his lip nervously and looked at the ground, still trembling.

“Do you at least remember how he paid for his tickets?” Quest asked, trying to contain his irritation.

“Now, I’m one hundred percent sure he paid cash.” Rad replied confidently. “You can probably see it on the tape…”

Quest scratched his stubble, trying to contain his anger. He licked the inside of his upper lip and inhaled deeply.

“Alright.” He whispered. “That was stupid.”

He thanked Sasha and Rad for giving him some of their time, grabbed the tape, put it in his coat pocket and left the cinema. He walked back to the car with Wade.

“Nothing makes sense right now.” Quest said.

“Well it wasn’t him, and even if it was, how would we know?” Wade replied.

“It’s just, it has to be him!” Quest exclaimed. “Otherwise, where did Alpha come from that night? How did he just show up at their house?”

“There’s always the possibility that he saw them before that day.”

“Is there any other place where the both of them went and gave out their address? And we have already established that Alpha is a male between the ages of 18 and 35, that man certainly didn’t look 40!”

“It also could’ve been just a very, very big coincidence.” Wade pointed out.

“Crimes are very rarely simple coincidences.”

Wade didn’t reply. He put the key in and drove off.

“I’m just saying we should keep this man as a suspect. Even though we know literally nothing about him apart from the fact that he  _maybe_ has a fringe or a quiff… or sloppy hair on his forehead…” 

Quest hit his hand on the car’s door out of frustration.

~

Dan had put everything he would need tonight in his backpack before he left the flat. It was dark outside. He took the usual path and walked until his mind triggered something.

He had his coat’s hood on his head and the cold air whipping his face made him feel good. He entered the first Underground station he found and waited for a train to arrive.

A woman with very short brown hair rushed in the station. Dan heard the familiar sound of the distant train. It became clearer and clearer, and just as the train arrived, Dan gave a push in the woman’s back. She staggered onward, and fell in the gap just as the train was arriving. It triggered shocked exclamations from the people around, and a grin on Dan’s lips.

“16…” Dan said. “Mind the gap.”

Dan jerked. He locked his eyes on the short haired lady.

 _“Gotcha.”_ He thought to himself, grinning lightly.

The train arrived and he stepped in, followed by his next victim. Dan walked to the end of the train and stood in the corner even though a few seats were still empty. The woman stayed near the doors. He kept an eye on her from afar.

The train finally left the station and began its journey. Dan had no idea where he was going. He just stayed in his corner, sneakily throwing looks at the woman to be sure to know when she left.

And finally, a few stops later, it was the woman’s station. She had her hands in her coat pockets. She took them out to step forward, and Dan saw something drop on the floor. She exited the train and left her wallet behind. Dan saw the opportunity.

He left the train, grabbing her wallet at the same time. He opened it and looked at her name on an ID card. Favor Gallagher. He smiled to himself before running after her. The woman was still rushing. She sprinted out the station, Dan running up behind her.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, trying to catch her attention. “Miss! Wait!”

She didn’t stop. Dan was running out of breath, but he continued. He couldn’t lose her.

He followed her on the street, still yelling “Miss! Wait! You dropped something!”, until she took a turn in an alleyway. Dan stopped running when he was at the alleyway’s entrance. He felt an arm grab him and he was propelled against the wall. Two strong hands were grasping at the collar of his coat and he yelped slightly.

“Who are you?” A feminine voice asked.

Dan looked at the person who had seized him. It was the short haired lady.

“W-what?” Dan spattered, confused.

“Answer the question!” She spat in his face, grasping his hair tightly to make him look at her. “Who the hell are you?”

“You dropped your wallet in the tube…” Dan replied with a tiny voice. “I just wanted to give it back…”

“I dropped my goddamn wallet on purpose, dufus!” Favor Gallagher exclaimed. “I knew for sure you’d follow me all the way here!”

Dan was speechless. Favor tightened her grip.

“Did you have a look inside?” She asked again with an arrogant tone. “Did you see my name?”

Dan didn’t reply. He was still processing what was happening.

“Alpha is out of words, I see?” Favor continued, staring straight into Dan’s eyes.

Dan’s eyes lit up. He finally understood what Favor Gallagher was implying, and he decided to put on the mask.  _“Lights, camera, action!”_  Dan thought.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Dan uttered, pulling off his scarily good acting skills.

“Don’t act like you’re innocent!” Favor yelled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Dan cried, panicked.

“You’ve been staring at me since the moment I stepped in that goddamn station!” She screamed again, her face getting closer to Dan’s. “I watch the news, you know! They’ve warned us. Nobody looks at someone for so long like you did after a new like that erupts!”

“I’m very sorry, I simply thought you were a pretty girl…” Dan mumbled, scared.

Favor paused for a few seconds. Her tensed features softened lightly, but tensed again when she opened back her mouth.

“Yeah, that’s what you want me to think! I know I’m next in Alpha’s goddamn pattern, alright! My name is Favor Gallagher! Are you happy?! Favor Gallagher! It starts with an F! I’m next on your list, aren’t I?”

“What…” Dan whined, close to tears. “No… I have no idea what you’re talking about… I’m sorry, I’m just a shy guy, I don’t really know how to approach pretty girls I didn’t want to offend you or seed ideas in your head when I looked at you, you’re just really, really pretty… Please, take your wallet and let me go…”

Favor’s hands finally let go of Dan’s coat. She recoiled slightly and looked at him up and down, disappointed.

“Wow, alright.” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure Alpha wouldn’t act like such a pussy. He would’ve already killed me. Give that back to me.”

She snatched the wallet from Dan’s hands.

“Sorry for the bother.” She added. “It’s self-defence, you see.”

“It’s okay, I guess…” Dan replied, scratching the back of his head.

She turned on her heels and headed out the alleyway.

“And it’s not by staring intensely at a girl that you’re going to get a goddamn date, boy.” She continued, not looking at him.

Dan zipped open his backpack as quietly as possible as Favor walked out the alleyway. He fetched the syringe that he had already filled back at home from the bottom of the bag. He tiptoed behind her.

“Oh, and, be careful out there.” Favor added. “That psycho could be anywhe-”

Dan covered Favor’s mouth with his right hand as he shoved the needle in her jugular and injected the liquid. She fought against his grip, but she tensed up and her body paralyzed.

Dan dragged her back in the alleyway and laid her on the ground. She was still alive. He crouched down and leaned over her. He smiled from ear to ear.

“Oh, Favor.” He tittered. “Have you never heard of  _acting_? Apparently, I’m pretty good at it.”

He giggled joyfully.

“I’m Alpha, by the way, hi. At first, I was pretty surprised that you had spotted me already. But honestly, fooling you was far too easy.”

Favor’s eyes were terrified. She was looking all around her, and her breathing was getting quicker and quicker.

“Now you must be wondering what on  _Earth_  I injected inside of you.” Dan added. “Well, let’s just do a quick science class here.”

He grabbed his backpack and snatched the liquid’s bottle. He waved it under her eyes.

“This, little Favor, is hydrogen peroxide. It’s a chemical compound with the formula H2O2. It’s used for bleaching, disinfecting and as propellant in rocketry. Now, I don’t know if your mama ever put that on a nasty wound you had when you were a child but, when this little treasure comes in contact with blood, it foams. Great, isn’t it? Do you want to know why it does that? I’m sure you do! Inside your blood, you have a cool little enzyme called Catalase. When hydrogen peroxide comes in contact with that enzyme, it breaks it into its pure components, which are oxygen and water. About one molecule of Catalase can create about 200,000 reactions per second. Just imagine all the great things it’s doing in your body right now! Clogging up your pretty little veins, making your heart pump more and more blood, faster… faster… again and again…”

Dan laughed.

“It’s just beautiful, isn’t it? Science, man. You never get tired of that.”

Favor still didn’t move. Her face was petrified.

“I’ve never tried it before.” Dan admitted. “But I’m pretty positive about the results. I’ve seen a video of a beetle getting hydrogen peroxide injected. It  _bam!_  exploded! Now, I’m pretty sure it won’t happen with you considering the little dose I gave you. Your death is sure going to take quite a while. You’ll live long enough to feel your heart pump like crazy… until it finally stops.”

Dan opened the bottle and sucked more of the liquid inside his syringe. He pricked in the artery under her arm and injected more of the hydrogen peroxide.

“That should help you.” He smiled. “You’re probably wondering why I’m doing this, you know, killing people and all that stuff, but trust me, it’s for a good cause. You’re not dying in vain, Favor, it’s going to benefit this world. You’ll thank me in the afterlife.”

Tears were streaming from Favor’s eyes. Her face was contorted with pain, but she couldn’t move, or couldn’t scream. It was too intense.

“This wouldn’t be an Alpha murder without my beautiful trademark.” Dan grabbed the penknife from his bag. “Don’t you think they’re stylish? I really think they should bring this into today’s fashion.”

He laughed gleefully. He then switched the blade and carved “6” and “16” on each of Favor’s cheeks. He stood back up and admired her.

“Beautiful.”

Dan delicately wiped her wallet with his coat to remove his fingerprints. He retrieved his stuff and put it back in his backpack. He zipped it close. He threw it on his back and looked down one last time at Favor

“Please, do me a favor…”

Dan giggled at his pun.

“Be careful out there, that psycho could be anywhere.”

Dan left the alleyway and walked to the opposite direction he had come from.


	15. Chapter 15

Dan came back home before Phil. He went to his room emptied his backpack. He put the hydrogen peroxide back to the medicine cabinet, his penknife under his pillow but left the bike gloves in the bag. He grabbed the syringe and looked at it longingly.

“What do I do with you?” Dan said.

He shrugged his shoulders. He went to kitchen and threw it in the trash can, carefully hiding it under other rubbish.

Dan then retrieved his laptop and sat in the living room for the rest of the night. Phil came back three hours later, around midnight. He found Dan in the ‘browsing position’, as they both liked to call it, and he sat next to him.

“Hey.” Dan greeted.

“Hey.” Phil replied, ruffling his hair and taking his socks off.

“Had fun?”

“A whole lot!” Phil said. “I hadn’t seen him in a while, it was good to hang out.”

Dan nodded. Phil sunk into the sofa and exhaled.

“Did you go out or anything?” Phil asked. “Or did you sit on the sofa all day long?”

Dan inwardly giggled.

“Sat on the sofa all day long.” He lied.

“As usual.” Phil laughed. 

He paused. Dan continued browsing without noticing his friend worryingly looking at him.

“Did you…” Phil began shyly. “Did you have daydreams? Or like… urges to harm yourself or go on a one-night stand?”

Dan turned to him. He stared deeply into Phil’s eyes with an expressionless face. He knew he was just asking because he cared about him. And now that Dan had accepted the fact that Phil would always be there to make sure of his wellbeing, even though it was against everything Dan had ever wanted, he couldn’t blame him for it.

“No.” Dan lied again.

Phil took a deep breath and stood up.

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “You know, Dan, if you feel the need to go on a one-night stand, you can always… you know… get off yourself… or-”

“I know how that works, Phil.” Dan replied dryly.

“Yeah, I know.” Phil said.

Dan simply glanced at him. He was wondering what Phil intended on adding after saying “or”. They looked at each other awkwardly, until Phil decided to exit the living room. He was really worried for Dan, and he wished he could get inside his head to understand him and help him get better. But he knew that wasn’t how life worked, so he resigned himself to asking Dan on a regular basis if he felt good, if he had daydreams, if he had urges to harm himself, urges for one-night stands or anything to talk about. Dan had already established that he didn’t want Phil to get his nose in this, but he had also promised to talk to him if he needed. Phil was just helping him get it out. Anything to make Dan get better, he would do it.

Phil walked to the kitchen to grab a snack when he noticed the trash can was starting to get full. He sighed and concluded that if he didn’t take it out right now, he wouldn’t want to do it more tomorrow, neither would Dan. He tied the ends of the bag together and pulled it out the can. The bag swung slightly, brushing against Phil’s leg.

“Ouch!”

He recoiled in pain, holding the bag away from his body.

“What the hell…” He whispered. Phil pressed a hand on his painful limb. “Something just stabbed me…”

He dropped the bag and analysed the side that had touched his leg. He saw a very thin metallic thing piercing through the plastic. Confused, he untied it and searched for the whole object inside the bag.

Phil’s eyes widened with shock when he pulled a syringe out of the bag. His mind shut down for a second, and when he could control it again, he found only one logical explanation. Phil fumed with rage.

“DANIEL JAMES HOWELL!” Phil yelled, scurrying out the kitchen with the syringe in hand.

Dan, in the living room, heard Phil’s voice just like he was next to him. His body tensed when Phil stormed in the room, his face red with anger.

“Can you explain to me what the  _hell_ that is?!” He exclaimed to Dan, waving the syringe in the air.

Dan’s heart stopped beating. He had forgotten about the syringe in the trash can. How had Phil found it? Had he searched through the rubbish?!

“Uh…” was all Dan managed to get out.

“What is it!?” Phil screamed again, insistent.

“I don’t know…” Dan lied.

Phil shook his head in disappointment and anger. He licked the inside of his upper lip and opened back his mouth.

“You’ve been lying to me since the moment I stepped in this room!” He fumed.

“No…” He lied again.

“Quit lying to me, Dan!” Phil stomped his foot. “A freaking  _syringe_ stabbed me when I tried to take out the trash!I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there when I left!”

Phil was furious. He was staring straight into Dan’s eyes, trying to get something out of him. Dan was petrified. Phil was rarely that angry. He didn’t know what Phil thought of the syringe, but he knew he would find out very soon.

“I’m so… disappointed in you!” Phil said.

“What did I do?!” Dan defended himself.

Phil laughed humourlessly.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, Dan Howell, because I’m not finding this funny at all! Stop your little act! Right now!”

“Phil… I don’t know what you-”

“DAN, SHUT THE  _FUCK_  UP!”

Dan froze. Phil never swore.  _Ever_. He only did when he was very,  _very_  angry. Phil’s features were twisted with rage and his face had never been that red. Even though Dan didn’t fear anything anymore and that killing innocent people was now something as easy as clicking his fingers, Phil didn’t fail to scare the crap out of him.

“You’ve been doing drugs all this time?!”

There he went. Dan thought it was pretty much the only thing Phil could deduce from finding a syringe in their trash can. He didn’t blame him. Once again, if this could lead Phil to a different path and take him away from the pattern, Dan was ready to dive straight in.

“Well… I…” Dan sputtered, acting like Phil’s assumptions were true.

“I can’t believe that all this time…  _Drugs?!_  Dan! Why on earth?! What the  _fuck_ is wrong with you?!”

“Phil…” Dan whispered. “I… I just…”

“I’m so… angry!” Phil exclaimed. “I should’ve known! I remember clearly last week, you were sitting on that very sofa and you looked stoned as hell! And I even asked you if you were high, but I was obviously joking! I never thought you were actually…”

Phil paused. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down. He saw the speechless and terrified Dan still sitting on the sofa.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Phil asked a bit too harshly.

“Why  _would_ I tell you?” Dan retorted. “Like, oh, Phil, I’m feeling incredibly depressed and I need something to numb the fuck out of my feelings so I do drugs!”

“That’s exactly why!” Phil replied, his voice getting higher. “I could’ve helped you, I could’ve… I could’ve done anything to stop you from injecting whatever the hell that is inside your body!”

“Stop… just stop it…” Dan begged.

“Are you high right now?” Phil asked very seriously.

“No.” Dan replied truthfully.

“Why would you even turn to drugs…?” Phil said, more to himself than to his friend. “I can’t even believe…”

“Phil…” Dan spoke in a tiny voice. “Alright, okay, I admit it, I’ve been doing drugs for… quite a while now but, please, you’ve got to see the bright side of things! You found the syringe in the trash can! I’m trying to stop! I threw away my syringe, damn it, isn’t this a good sign?! I’m trying to get better!”

“What tells me you don’t have other syringes in your room?”

“I don’t!” Dan whined. “Please, Phil, stop striving against me, I’m doing the best I can to get rid of this without having to go to rehab…”

Phil rubbed his forehead. He closed his eyes tightly, reflecting all of what had just happened. Phil wanted the best for Dan. He cared about him to bits, and since he had noticed the strange changes in his behaviour, he had made it his mission to help him through his tough times. His best friend doing drugs frustrated him a whole lot, but it was a part of Dan’s struggle and he couldn’t ignore it. He decided he would support him through whatever would happen, and help him stop his addiction.

Phil opened back his eyes and his features softened.

“Thank you for not lying to me, this time.” Phil thanked.

Dan grinned lightly.

“We both know that I will always be by your side whatever happens, and even though I am very disappointed in what I just learned, I will support you through your procedures of getting better.”

Phil sat down next to Dan on the sofa. They looked at each other for a while before Phil opened his arms and wrapped them around Dan’s chest. He hugged him as hard as he could to show him that even though he was extremely angry, he still cared and loved him. Dan hugged him back, nuzzling his face in the hollow of Phil’s neck.

“Thank you…” Dan simply breathed.

Phil finally let go and put a hand on Dan’s shoulder.

“Don’t ever,  _ever_  choose that kind of thing to numb your feelings  _ever_ again.” Phil said with a calm tone. “Come talk to me, we live together, damn it, I’m always around, I’m always there for you!”

Dan simply nodded.

“Also, I’m very glad you admitted to being depressed.” Phil smirked.

“Shut up…” Dan replied jokingly.

“The first step is acceptance, Dan…”

“No, Phil, really, shut up…” He said seriously this time. “It’s not because you found my old syringe that you get to put your nose in my personal life… We agreed to not speak of it again.”

Phil sighed.

“Are you bipolar too?” Phil retorted half-jokingly and half seriously.

“Phil, don’t…” Dan began.

“Alright, let’s not talk about it, let’s not joke about it, let’s not indirect it, let’s pretend it’s not there and that Dan is controlling everything perfectly!” Phil mocked.

“Yes.” Dan agreed, going back to his laptop. “Why would anything have to be different?”

Phil didn’t reply. He simply got up and headed to the door.

“I’m going to throw that in the rubbish outside to be sure you won’t get it back.” He said referring to the syringe.

“Good.” Dan simply replied.

He went back to scrolling and typing and Phil stared at him. It made him sad how Dan just brushed off the subject and didn’t want Phil to intervene at any moment. He felt like Dan was simply using him. Using him to numb his feelings, using him to forget the things he’d done, the thing he was doing… Phil was about a hundred percent sure the drugs, the one-night stands and the self-harm weren’t the only things Dan was up to. There was something strange in the way he looked at him, in the way that he acted. Beyond the depression, beyond the sex, beyond the self-harm and beyond the drugs, Phil could see something strange in Dan’s eyes. Something extremely unusual. And it was that unknown, odd glimmer in his eyes that concerned Phil so much. There had to be other things. Whether Dan liked it or not, Phil would find out what they were.

Whatever that implied doing.

~

“He just never stops, does he?”

The click of Dallas’ camera resounded a few times. The whole team, except from Tucker who was busy with the research teams, was once again reunited around another body.

“He’s trying to get the job done to get to the prize at the end.” Quest replied.

“Which is?” Zarah asked as she was leaning down on the body.

“Victory.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the corpse.

“Do we have a name?” Quest turned to Wade.

“Her wallet was on the ground next to her. Favor Gallagher.”

“Who found her?”

“Some guy. He called the police after he saw a body in the alleyway. He had left before we got there.”

Quest nodded.

“That’s really weird.” Vincent said. “Apart from the bloody numbers on her cheeks, there doesn’t seem to have any other external injuries.”

“Look at her neck. There’s bruises.” Jesus pointed out. “It looks like burst veins. Dallas, snap that.”

Another click.

“Where did she come from?” Quest mumbled to himself. “Where did she go?”

“It’s about Favor Gallagher’s murder, Quest, not Cotton Eyed Joe.” Jesus replied, elbowing Vincent in the arm so he could laugh with him.

“Don’t ever become a comedian, Jesus, people will run out the room.” Zarah commented.

“We don’t know yet.” Vincent answered Quest’s question. “You’ll have to question relatives before. But, so far, it looks like she could’ve spent the night lying there. We’ll know more when she’ll be out of that alleyway.”

Quest rubbed his stubble.

“You said the wallet was lying next to her on the ground?” He turned to Wade who nodded yes. “Zarah, did you seal it?”

“Yes.” She replied. “I checked in it before I did and it doesn’t look like she got robbed. Though, her IDs were easy to reach.”

Quest walked out the alleyway and looked from left to right. He noticed the Underground station sign and walked back in.

“So we know for sure this is Alpha’s work, she’s got the marks.” Quest began. “Usually, people will leave their wallet in their bag or in their purse or even in their pockets. Why was hers on the ground next to her?”

Nobody replied.

“Somebody else got a hold of it.” Quest replied his own question.

“How?” Dallas asked.

“So far I have two theories. She either got it stolen and Alpha followed her, killed her then gave back the wallet, or, she dropped it and Alpha picked it up, had a look inside, then followed her and killed her.”

“That was a quick assumption.” Zarah pointed out. “Are you sure that’s even plausible?”

“You said it yourself, Mello.” Quest explained. “Her IDs were easy to reach. If Alpha needs a name to kill people, and we know that he doesn’t choose them in advance, or at least can’t unless the name is available, he most definitely had a look in her wallet. Alpha goes out and lurks around London until he meets his next victim. So he got a hold of Favor Gallagher’s wallet, followed her and killed her. Back to my two theories; she got it stolen, or dropped it. Otherwise her wallet would’ve been in her pocket, don’t you think?”

Zarah sighed.

“How the hell can you deduce so much out of so little?” She questioned, not really wanting the answer.

Quest didn’t reply.

“Where did she drop it then?” She asked.

“Well, this alleyway is literally 10 meters away from an Underground station. She was either coming out of it or going in.”

“Shall we take a look at the Underground’s security cameras then?” Wade asked.

“Yeah.” Quest nodded. “Call me if you find anything interesting in the meanwhile. Otherwise I’ll come back tonight.”

The whole team nodded as Quest and Wade left the crime scene. When they were far enough from the team, Wade opened his mouth.

“You do realize that we’re not going to see Alpha more on those tapes that we did at the cinema, right?”

“We could maybe see something unusual.” Quest replied. “And I still think that could’ve been Alpha back at the cinema.”

Wade exhaled loudly.

“We have to be rational!” Quest exclaimed. “Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans’ murders don’t match with the other ones! Unless Alpha has some magical powers and he sees who he’ll kill next in some talking mirror and knows where they live by simply looking at them, then fine, it’s not that guy back there! But Wade, I said it the other day; it doesn’t make sense otherwise!”

“Okay, let’s say,  _if_ you are right,” Wade said, “if that guy back at the cinema was indeed Alpha, how would you prove it? How would you even find him?”

“There are still ten victims to come, Wade. Alpha’s got plenty of time to make a mistake.”

The both of them descended into the station. They walked up to the information desk where a man in his twenties greeted them. They did the usual procedure, showed their badges, explained they needed to see the tapes because it could help them in an investigation, and the man finally led them into another room and put a tape in the slot.

“I guess I can trust you guys with this.” The man said. “I have to go back to my desk. Just come see me when you’re done or if you need anything.”

Wade and Quest nodded and the man left the room. Quest turned his head to the screen in front of him and grabbed the remote. He fast forwarded until 7:00.

“We don’t exactly know when Favor Gallagher exited the station.” Quest explained. “But as we saw before, Alpha kills when it’s dark out. This might take a while.”

They both pulled a chair out of under the desk and sat down. They both stared intensely at the screen, watching every person get in and get out the train. For the first hour, Favor Gallagher was nowhere to be seen. Wade was beginning to zone out as a headache seized him up slowly. Quest stayed still, his eyes not leaving the tapes.

Suddenly, Quest’s arm went flying on Wade’s body, waking him up from his light slumber. He pointed the screen with a slender finger after pressing pause.

“There she is.” He told Wade. “She’s running out the train.”

Quest rewound and played it again for Wade.

“She looks like she’s in a rush.” Wade pointed out.

“Yeah.” Quest agreed.

“It doesn’t seem like anyone is following her, though.” Wade continued.

“Wait, look!” Quest exclaimed.

A man rushed out the train and followed the same direction Favor had taken. The man was wearing his black hood on his head, so his face was unrecognizable. He had a backpack on his shoulders and his hands in his pockets.

“He’s following her!”

“It doesn’t really look like he’s following her, Quest…” Wade replied. “He got out like a solid minute after her. Everyone’s rushing to the exit.”

Quest nibbled the inside of his cheek.

“I can’t see what he does before getting out… Is this where Favor Gallagher dropped her wallet?”

“Most definitely.” Wade replied.

“She’s in a rush, could explain why she dropped it.” Quest said to himself.

He paused.

“The man has the same black hood as the guy at the cinema.”

“Yeah, like about 90% of the population!” Wade exclaimed. “Quest, you’re a bit paranoid…”

“Wade, we’re MI5 agents, isn’t it like our duty to be paranoid about every little detail?”

“Touché,” Wade said. He sighed. “Quest, look, you’ve been doing a really great job so far, but we’re not getting anywhere right now. I’m your superior and I’m here to tell you if things are going downhill. Right now, if you keep lingering on black hooded men buying cinema tickets and rushing out Underground stations, Alpha’s going to walk right under our noses and he’ll get to the end without any of us knowing.”

“As my superior, Wade, you should know that I have a pretty good feeling about black hooded men buying tickets and rushing out Underground stations. And also, as Alpha has been very meticulous in every crime, I can’t do much else than suspect black hooded men. Oh, and I don’t think there are a lot of six feet tall men wearing black hoods on their heads at the same place as victims of murder were last seen.”

Quest bit harder on the skin of his cheek.

“Please, Wade, trust me…” He begged. “If he turns out to be Alpha in the end and we give up on him now you’re going to eat your fingers. I’ve never had such a strong feeling before and you know I’ve done a lot of cases. If you let me find the station Favor Gallagher got in, check the security cameras and find the black hooded man there at the same time as her, will you let me count him as an official suspect?”

Wade looked at Quest longingly.

“ _Only_ if you see him in the cameras.” Wade replied.

Quest beamed.

“Thanks.” He printed himself a copy of Favor Gallagher exiting the station as well as a picture of the black hooded man running after her. “You won’t be disappointed.”

They left the secret room and visited every station of the line Favor Gallagher had taken. They viewed every security camera, estimating the time Favor Gallagher could’ve been there before she went on and arrived to the last station. It’s about 6 stations later that luck smiled upon him.

They were analysing once again another tape when a black hooded men entered the station and leaned his back against the wall, waiting for the train to arrive.

“There!” Quest exclaimed, pointing at the black hooded individual. “There, that’s him! That’s the same guy! Same coat, same black hood, same jeans, same backpack!”

Wade squinted to have a better look at the guy.

“I guess, yes.” Wade confirmed. “But where is Favor Gallagher?”

They both looked back at the screen as Favor Gallagher entered the station and waited in front of the black hooded man.

“There…” Quest whispered.

“She got there after the black hooded man.” Wade pointed out. “If he wasn’t following her, how did he manage to know her name to go and kill her?”

Quest paused.

“Her wallet.” He replied.

“Where did she drop it then? In the train?”

“Probably. Tapes only show us what it can see. We didn’t see her drop it nor the man pick it up on the video. But it most definitely happened; why would he run after her?”

Wade was silent. He was analysing the situation and the probability of Quest’s assumptions. Quest’s detective past was immaculate, he had always been right. He had always helped greatly in a case and had always investigated where others would give up or where they wouldn’t even bother looking. In that moment, Wade remembered why he cherished Quest’s talent so much and felt such a strong feeling of pride towards him.

He turned back at him and grinned.

“Count the black hooded man as a suspect.” Wade said.

Quest smirked. He nodded his head gratefully and printed out screenshots of the video.

~

The sun was beating down Dan’s window. His sleepy head rose from the pillow. He opened his eyes one by one. The warmth of his bed was comforting and prompting to fall right back asleep.

Dan was about to fall back on his pillow and slumber longer when Phil flew his door open.

“Good morning!” He almost yelled with his fists against his hips.

“Go away…” Dan moaned, pulling the duvet closer.

“Wake up, sleepyhead, it’s a drug bust!”

Dan immediately straightened up on his bed. “What?”

“You sure thought I was going to buy your ‘oh, I don’t have anything else in my room’, stuff.” Phil said. “But I know you too well, Dan, you still have some stuff in here. And if you say you want to get better without going to rehab, well I’m going to do it well enough for you!”

Dan rolled his eyes and fell back on his pillow.

“I wasn’t lying.” He replied, yawning. “There’s nothing else in here.”

“Oh, I remember the other day when Pj was here you were very angry because you couldn’t find your ‘DS’. It was right next to you. It’s obvious that you were looking for your drugs and that you didn’t remember where you hid them.”

Phil raised an eyebrow, looking at his friend still lying in bed.

“Whatever.” Dan replied with a throaty voice, remembering the real reason why he was angry that night. “Knock yourself out.”

After all, Dan didn’t really have anything to hide from Phil in his bedroom… did he?

Phil started searching through Dan’s stuff. In his drawers, under his bed, as Dan nuzzled against his pillow and tried to go back to sleep.

As Phil started searching behind furniture, panic suddenly attacked Dan. He actually had things he preferred Phil not to see. The bike gloves… he didn’t remember if they were bloody or not! The penknife under his pillow… the carving behind the painting above his head…

His eyes opened immediately. He gripped the duvet strongly and looked at Phil from the corner of his eye. He was leaning behind his piano. Dan bit his lip. He slowly, carefully reached out his hand under his other pillow, still staring at Phil from the corner of his eye. He was almost under it when Phil’s body emerged from behind the piano and turned to him.

Dan’s hand slid back under the duvet as fast as possible. They made eye contact and Phil continued his thing. _“Shit!”_ Dan thought as Phil spotted his backpack on his chair.

He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to every God that could possibly hear his prayers that his gloves were clean. Phil zipped open the backpack and Dan held his breath. He shoved a hand in, and, carefully, pulled out the two gloves.

“Did you film your video with the gloves after all?”

Dan opened his eyes. Phil was holding the gloves in front of him. They were clean. Dan exhaled in relief. He looked back into Phil’s eyes and replied:

“Oh, no, I tried but it didn’t come out like I wanted.”

Phil nodded and dropped the gloves back in the bag. Nothing else seemed to interest him inside so he moved on to Dan’s closet. Dan’s breath was heavy. He didn’t risk it this time. He shoved his hand under his other pillow, grasped the penknife and quickly put in the back of his waistband.

“Oh God, it’s a mess, no chance you hid anything in here!” Phil exclaimed, closing the closet doors.

He turned to Dan’s bed, where Dan had closed his eyes again and tried to calm his breathing. Phil stared at the bed in silence as Dan waited for something to happen, his heart pounding.

Phil grabbed the corner of the duvet and pulled all of it off the bed. Dan quickly opened his eyes, shocked by the cold air suddenly whipping his bare skin. He was lying there in only his boxers and he looked up at Phil in confusion and disbelief.

“What the hell?” Dan exclaimed, hugging his chest to try and gain back the warmth.

“Who knows, maybe you’re hiding stuff in your bed.” Phil replied.

He grabbed Dan’s other pillow and shoved his hand inside the case to make sure nothing was inside. He then stole the one Dan was lying against, provoking a “hey! That’s mine!” to escape his friend’s mouth. Phil did the same process and he found nothing. He passed his hands between the mattress and the bed base. Nothing. He straightened up and put his eyes back on Dan.

“Looks like there’s nothing there.” Phil concluded. “Unless you’re hiding something in your pants.” He smirked. “Should I search there as well?”

Dan gulped. He laughed nervously and managed to pull a smirk.

“Naughty.” Dan simply replied.

Phil laughed and went on with his little investigation. Dan wiped his sweaty forehead and tucked the duvet back in. After a few minutes, Phil ended up his research.

“Well, looks like I was wrong.” He announced. “There is nothing left in here. I’m very proud of you, Dan. You’re really making progress.”

“I told you.” Dan grinned.

They stared at each other longingly. Dan saw Phil’s eyes lower down on his exposed chest and felt a familiar heat wave crash upon him. Phil unconsciously bit his lip. He then seemed to come back to reality and stared back into Dan’s eyes.

“Well… um… that was it…” Phil said with an uncertain voice.

Dan shook his head lightly, and Phil exited his room awkwardly. He was filled with mixed feelings and couldn’t think straight. He pulled the penknife out of his waistband and put it back under his pillow. Dan wiped away the sweat on his forehead and turned on his front as his breath was becoming too heavy and blood was rushing to his cheeks, as well as other places.

~

The sun was settling down and Dan was getting anxious. He tapped his fingers nervously on the side of his laptop and bit the fingernails off his other hand. He hadn’t killed in a while and it was starting to show. He had to kill.

Phil was sitting beside him on the sofa and had noticed his nervousness. He hadn’t said a word yet, but was carefully watching him. Phil could evidently tell that Dan was in need of a fix. He hadn’t done drugs of the whole day and he was pretty sure it was beginning to strike him down.

He finally decided to speak up.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked with the calmest tone he could give.

“Yes.” Dan replied curtly.

“You look nervous.” Phil pointed out.

“I’m not.” Dan said harshly, tapping his fingers faster.

“Keep going like that, you’re doing great.” Phil smiled, going back to his own laptop.

Dan simply glanced at him. He closed his computer a bit too hard and stood up quickly. He headed to the door when Phil said:

“Where are you going?”

“I need air.” Dan replied. “I’m… I need to breathe…”

He didn’t wait for Phil’s reply and left the room. He ran to his room and threw his backpack on his shoulder. He grabbed the penknife from under his pillow and shoved it down his pocket. He quickly put his shoes, his coat and his hood on before exiting the flat as fast as possible.

The air out was beginning to get warmer as May approached and summer slowly settled itself. Dan was struggling to get air in his lungs. He took slow and long breaths. He had to find someone as fast as possible. He couldn’t handle himself anymore. He had to kill and he wouldn’t want to take out his violence on someone who isn’t a part of the pattern. It would simply erase all of Dan’s purpose.

He followed the pavement, not really watching where he was going. He knew his mind would lead him.

After a while, he took his phone out of his pocket to check the time. It was 8:23. He stopped walking for a second. A weird feeling crawled through his skin. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what made him feel so uncomfortable, but finally brushed it off and kept going.

At the corner of a street, Dan stopped again. He looked to his left where a man was crossing the road to go to the Underground station. He wore a navy leather coat and a beige scarf. He had glasses on the tip of his nose and his hands were in his coat pockets. Dan ran straight up to him and kicked his foot directly in between the man’s legs. He fell to his knees with a loud yelp, and Dan swung his foot directly into his stomach, and again, and again. The man finally collapsed to the floor. Dan felt the violence intensify inside of him. He tightened his fists with rage and clenched his teeth. He stepped on the man’s face, kicking as hard as he could, to hear his nose break, see blood squirt out from under his shoe. He kicked and kicked again, unable to stop his ravaging violence. After mutilating the man’s face for God knows how long, Dan smiled from ear to ear and stepped on his neck and put all of his weight on it. He heard the crack of every bone.

“Sixteen…” Dan gloomily smiled.

He jerked. Dan smirked to himself when he spotted the man crossing the road again. He went to put a foot in front of the other and follow the guy, but quickly changed his mind. Dan shivered. The same weird feeling was seizing him up. But this time, he could tell what the feeling was and his body instantly tensed up.

He felt watched.

His eyes opened wide and he exhaled sharply. Everything around him felt like it was in slow motion. He didn’t know what to expect when he’d look behind. He tried to stay calm. Dan turned his head slowly and subtly, holding his breath. The pavement behind him was empty, except from a tall silhouette who desperately hid behind a telephone booth when they noticed they had been spotted. The silhouette had hid too tardily, because Dan had already seen a glimpse of them.

Dan turned back his head as his heart started pounding and adrenaline rushed to his head. He looked back at the man crossing the road. His next victim.

Reluctantly, Dan took off his hood and walked in the opposite direction his victim was heading.

Behind the telephone booth, Phil was breathing too heavily for it to be healthy.


	16. Chapter 16

The taste of the strong coffee tickled Quest’s taste buds. It was only 7 in the evening, but he had a tendency to be unable to sleep when a case was particularly hard. A black coffee helped his eyelids stay up. 

The bags under his eyes were getting bigger every day. He stayed up late thinking over and over again about theories he had and going over everything to make sure he hadn’t forgotten a detail. He questioned every information they had gathered and wondered about details that didn’t quite match the pattern.

And for another night, Quest didn’t plan on sleeping at all. Unbeknown to Wade, he had parked his car next to the Underground station Favor Gallagher and the suspect had been seen at on the tapes. Quest had deduced that if it was Alpha, he probably lived near that area and used that station quite often.

He would stay there and watch all night. His car was cleverly parked where nobody could see him, but where he could see anyone getting in or getting out the station.

If he was to see a six feet tall man wearing a black hood and a backpack, he knew that’d be Alpha. He’d follow him, and intervene when the time was right.

The time passed without any suspicious hooded men walking past. Quest had finished his coffee by now and tried to concentrate. He checked the time. 8:20. He rubbed his eyes firmly and sighed. This was going to be a long night.

People walking around were getting rarer. It would be easier for him to spot Alpha. If he was to come.

A man crossed the street. He didn’t have a hood on. He didn’t even wear a black coat. He had a navy leather coat and a beige scarf. He had glasses on the tip of his nose and his hands were in his coat pockets. He was heading to the Underground station. Quest sighed. He needed another coffee already.

He did a quick calculation in his head and estimated the probability of meeting Alpha were a bit low, yet still probable. He watched the man cross the street, yawning deeply.

Another man erupted from the street and left to the right. He had a black coat on and a black bag on his shoulders. He was rather tall, though his head was uncovered. Quest didn’t even notice Dan. He walked away from the station, unrecognized.

Quest didn’t even bother look at him go away and continued patrolling. Though, something bothered him for the rest of the night. He had this feeling Alpha would be right under his nose.

~

Dan fastened his pace. Anger was increasing at an incredible speed inside of him. He gritted his teeth and tightened his fists inside his coat’s pockets.

Phil had followed him. He had followed him out when he was going to continue the pattern. _Phil had followed him out._

Dan couldn’t register the information. He had spotted his victim, and Phil showed up! He had lost his victim because of him! _He lost his victim because of Phil!_

Dan’s breathing was getting heavier. He wanted to hit something. No, someone. He _needed_ to kill.

And he couldn’t just go back at the house right now, he had just gotten out! Perhaps Phil was still following him from a safe distance?! He couldn’t just go back to the station and find where his victim went!

Dan groaned. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to compose himself. If Phil was indeed still following him, he couldn’t just wander around and risk getting caught at suspicious activities. But at the same time, Dan’s urge was growing bigger inside of him. It was all clogged up, making his chest feel like it could explode at any moment.

The man’s face kept shooting in his head. He couldn’t forget it! He had to remember it! He didn’t know if his subconscious would give him another daydream if he saw him again!

Dan rubbed his face firmly with both hands before he turned on his heels and entered the door he had just walked past. The smell of booze was strong and the rumors of conversation were hard on his eardrums. The room was very warm which made him peel off his coat and put it in his bag. He then sat down at the counter and the barman walked up to him.

“Hey boy, what can I get you?” He asked, his thick mustache wiggling at every word.

Dan sighed. He was still so pissed and he just wanted to drink until he lost count. Drink until his body felt numb and drink until he couldn’t remember.

But those last thoughts were the reason for him replying:

“Just a beer, please.”

The man nodded and walked away to get his drink.

Dan had to remember the man’s face. If he got drunk, he would forget! And the pattern would be broken! The man came back a minute later and put the glass in front of Dan.

“ _Glasses… on the tip of his nose… long hair… light brown… navy coat… beige scarf…”_

Dan took a sip of his beer.

_“Glasses… long light brown hair… navy coat… beige scarf…”_

Another sip.

_“Glasses… light brown… navy… beige…”_

“Just a beer, please.”

Dan froze. The voice, it was so familiar. From the corner of his eyes, he looked at the person next to him. The man had black hair and it was styled in a quiff. The hair on the sides of his head was shorter than the top. His long black coat had been taken off and neatly hung on the chair’s backrest.

It was agent Quest Kadner from the MI5, the detective he had met with Phil a few days ago. It was the detective on the Alpha case. It was the detective that was looking for him.

The corner of Dan’s mouth twitched, excitement rushing through his body. He restrained himself from laughing and simply carried on taking slow sips.

The barman came back with the same beer he gave out Dan and put it in front of Quest Kadner. He thanked him by nodding gratefully and passed slender fingers in his black hair. He took his first sip and sighed deeply.

Dan wanted to talk to him. He just wanted to. For his own pleasure. The feeling of talking to the detective in charge of putting his ass in jail without him even knowing was just blissful. He hated small talk, and Dan thought Quest probably did more than him. So he elaborated a stratagem.

Dan carefully slid his glass to the right, closer to where Quest was seated. He then looked to the left, faking to be interested in something in the distance. Then, he moved his right arm blindly to find his glass and purposely knocked it over.

It hit the counter in a loud noise and the beer spilled out in Quest’s direction. Dan let out a believable fake gasp and turned in the detective’s direction quickly enough to see him jump on his feet to avoid the beer from soaking his clothes.

“I’m so sorry!” Dan exclaimed, putting the glass back up. “I’m such an idiot, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright…” Quest replied, disoriented.

The barman approached calmly and cleaned the mess with a cloth.

“I’m so, so sorry…” Dan kept apologizing, his hands on his mouth. “Did it touch you?”

“No, I’m fine.” Quest said, examining his sleeves. “I’m okay.”

The barman finished cleaning and served Dan another beer. Quest sat back down slowly and Dan didn’t take his eyes off him.

“This is really embarrassing…” Dan continued.

Quest laughed lightly.

“Look, don’t worry, I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s all fine, all you did was spill some beer, you didn’t kill anyone.”

Dan laughed.

“You’re probably right.” He simply replied.

A silence settled for a few seconds before Dan decided to open his mouth again.

“I’m sorry, but, you look very familiar…” Dan said.

Quest looked back at Dan, adjusting a hair falling unsymmetrically on his forehead. He considered him, his little brown eyes trying to decode every inch of his face.

“You do too, actually.” Quest admitted. He took another sip of his beer. “I just can’t seem to put my finger on where I met you before.”

He sighed again.

“Is everything alright?” Dan asked politely.

“Yeah.” Quest sighed. “I’m just on this very hard case at the moment and it gets depressing at times.”

A smile crossed Dan’s lips for a few seconds.

“A case?” Dan repeated. “You’re from the police?”

“Kind of.” Quest replied with a small smile. “But not really.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

They both sipped. Dan waited a few minutes, then thought it was a great time to remember old days.

“Wait!” Dan exclaimed, making Quest jump lightly. “Are you Quest Kadner? From the MI5?”

Quest frowned his eyebrows. A few wrinkles formed on his forehead and his head tilted to the left.

“Uh, yeah…” He replied, confused. “How do you know?”

“We saw each other the other day!” Dan replied excitedly. “Yeah, that’s why your face is so familiar!”

Quest’s face, at first very confused, finally lit up.

“Oh, you were that guy at the crime scene, right?” He exclaimed. “You were with that other guy, looking strangely similar to you?”

“Yeah, that was my friend.” Dan specified.

“I never got your name.” Quest pointed out.

“Oh, you’re right.” Dan paused. “My name’s Rupert.”

Quest smiled.

“Nice to meet you again, Rupert!”

He reached his hand out and shook Dan’s.

“So, did you find who killed the girl yet?” Dan asked pointlessly.

“Sadly not. But you’ve seen the announcement, right? It’s all linked. We’re both lucky to be out the pattern, let me tell you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen. It’s horrible.”

Dan felt like Quest was more open than last time. Quest looked out of character. It was as if he needed a confident, and he was just spilling out everything he had to say to Dan- or Rupert.

“It’s unusual, I’ll give you that.” Quest said. “I can’t lie to you, it’s getting very hard. Just 10 minutes ago I was parked near the Underground station spying just to see if there was something unusual. We’re getting nowhere.”

Dan’s body went rigid. He was spying near the Underground station… just 10 minutes ago?

“Really..?” Dan replied nervously.

Quest nodded and chucked down the rest of his beer. A shiver went down Dan’s spine. What if Phil hadn’t followed him? He would’ve followed his victim and maybe Quest would’ve seen him! Everything fell so perfectly.

 _“Oh, Phil…”_ Dan thought, grinning inwardly.

“And, if I may,” Dan continued, “did you find anything?”

“No.” Quest sadly said. “You know kid, I’m not even supposed to be telling you all that. But I feel since you showed up to the crime scene with that weird emo friend of yours and managed to get a local police officer to call me out, you deserve it a little.”

“What, people don’t normally manage to get to you?” Dan asked, feeling highly pretentious.

“Nope.” Quest exclaimed. “They normally don’t even get to the local police. But, somehow, you did.”

He paused. He considered Dan for a long moment, looking at him from head to toes. He squinted his eyes, thinking. Dan held his breath.

“You’ve got a charm of your own, I suppose.” He finished.

Dan giggled. _“Oh, stop flirting with me, you…”_ He thought.

Dan drank the last bits of his beer before he finally decided he should go. He had drained all the pleasure he could get from talking to Quest and got every information he could possibly have told him. So he hardly got up and put his backpack back on his shoulders.

“Well, I think I should go.” Dan announced.

“Yeah, I should go back too.” Quest replied, rubbing his stubble. “You want a ride back?”

Dan was caught off guard. He couldn’t let Quest find out where he lived, and he certainly didn’t want him to see Phil. He knew it wouldn’t be good, he could feel it in his stomach. The anger from earlier was beginning to growl again instinctively.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to…” Dan began.

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m not even on duty right now. I’m doing overtime. I was heading back home, I have nothing more to do here. So?”

Dan smiled nervously.

“Thank you for the offer, but, really, I’m good. I like to walk. It relaxes me.” Dan bumbled.

“As you wish.” Quest said, inclining his head. “It was nice to see you again, Rupert!”

Quest handed out his hand. Dan grabbed it and shook vigorously.

“You too, agent. Hopefully you’ll see clearer in that case.”

Quest laughed humorlessly.

“Hopefully.” He smiled.

Dan nodded and exited the bar. He began to walk quickly, and when the bar was out of sight, he started running. He didn’t know what he was feeling inside. He was still angry at Phil for pushing it that far and making him lose his victim, but he was glad at the same time to have talked to Quest and gotten a few information about his case.

He was still excruciatingly angry, but it had been eased by the words of the agent.

The most important thing in his mind right now wasn’t the next victim, or Quest, or the information about the case, or him having to change his path… it was Phil. Why had he followed him? _Why?_

He knew he would find out soon enough when he slid his key in the front door’s lock and entered the flat.

~

Phil was pacing around his room, his mind racing. His index was twitching nervously. His breath was still sharp from running so fast and so long.

“What was I thinking?” He exclaimed. “Great idea you had there, Phil! Follow Dan! Yeah, great freaking idea!”

He had followed him for a few reasons. Mainly to make sure he wasn’t secretly getting more drugs or whatever else. But he also wanted to know what he did during his late night walks.

He never did it, it started recently, why was he doing it? Only to get his drug or go get high somewhere? He needed to know! Dan kept him in the dark too much and it was pissing him off.

But now he felt bad. He was about 85% sure Dan had seen him behind that telephone booth. Yet, there was still a 15% chance he hadn’t…

He had hidden quickly enough behind the telephone booth. He’d seen Dan turn around slowly, and then he saw him take off his hood and keep walking. Phil had gotten so scared that he sprinted until he reached home. And now he was scared.

If Dan had seen him, he would be, oh, _so_ angry. Phil knew it. That’s why he was so nervous. He didn’t want to even think what Dan could tell or do if he had seen him. He was trying to find something to tell Dan… He hated lying but this time, he had a gut feeling. A huge one. He had to lie. Dan wouldn’t be happy. Not happy at all. Phil couldn’t just go and tell straight to his friend’s face that he had sneakily followed him. No. He had to come up with something.

He would just pretend nothing had ever happened.

“Yes.” Phil tried to convince himself. “I was sitting in my bed on my laptop all evening. I didn’t move.”

Phil laughed nervously to himself. He bit his nail then grabbed his laptop and actually started browsing to convince himself. His hands were shaking. He wasn’t ready for Dan’s arrival.

After around 30 minutes, he heard the front door creak. His body tensed up and his heartbeat quickened. He stared intensely at his laptop screen, trying to slow down his breath.

He heard Dan’s footsteps come into the distance. He looked up and… _“Crap!”_ He thought. His room’s door wasn’t closed. That was basically an open invitation for Dan to come up and talk to him about… _the thing._

He heard his footsteps get closer and he knew he couldn’t make it to the door. Sweating, feeling his heart bang against his chest, he embraced what was going to happen.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Dan’s silhouette walk past his door and enter his own room. Phil exhaled deeply, convinced it was a narrow escape.

He heard a few noises coming from Dan’s room; a bag hit the ground, a coat being taken off and thrown on the ground, a brief cough. Then he heard Dan’s footsteps come out of his room. He heard him go past his door.

Dan got out his room, walked past Phil’s bedroom and entered the kitchen. He wanted to make Phil believe he hadn’t seen him. He wanted to see the look on his face. He wanted to make him pay with guilt. He grinned to himself.

“Phil?” He called.

Phil jerked and his breath cut. _“No, no, no, no, no, no, nononononononononononono…”_

“Y-yeah?” He replied, feeling like his heart would jump out of his chest how much it was beating.

“Can you come here a second?” Dan said. “I’m in the kitchen.”

Phil gulped. There it was. There. Dan knew. _He knew._ Dan was going to kill him. Oh, no. He wasn’t ready for that. Nope, nope, nope, nope.

He got up his bed, his legs shaking, and walked to the kitchen where he found a calm looking Dan. He couldn’t even look at him in the eyes.

“W-what is it?” Phil spluttered.

“Look.” Dan pointed at the ground. “There’s another broken tile.”

Phil followed Dan’s finger. He saw the cracked tile and frowned. He was so confused. What was happening? Had Dan really just called him out to show him there was another broken tile?

“Uh… yeah… I see…” Phil replied, confused.

Dan turned his head to him. His tall frame looked down at him and Phil felt intimidated. It was the first time in his life that he felt intimidated and scared by Dan. His face flushed crimson.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked with a peaceful voice.

“Y-yeah…” Phil stuttered. “I’m fine.”

Dan leaned his shoulder against the wall, a very shy grin plastered on his lip.

“Your face is all flushed.” Dan whispered. “Just like a… _telephone booth_.”

Phil looked at the ground in shame. He knew Dan wasn’t just saying this for the simile. He had just told Phil that he had seen him, in his on Dan Howell way.

Dan was delighted by Phil’s reaction. But enough with enjoyment. He needed answers. He felt the anger rush back through his veins.

“Why did you follow me?” Dan asked a bit too harshly.

“I didn’t…” Phil exclaimed, still looking at the ground. “I didn’t follow you…”

“Stop lying to me!” Dan screamed. “Why the hell do you follow me out? How long has this been going on!?”

“Fine! I followed you!” Phil screamed back, finally looking up at Dan. “But it was the first and only time! I promise!”

“Why the fuck did you?!” Dan continued aggressively.

“I wanted to know what you get up to when you leave the house at night and come back hours later!” Phil replied truthfully. “With everything that’s been going on lately, you keeping me in the shadow and not telling me anything! I’ve been finding out horrible things about you, the drugs, the sex, the self-harm, and-” Phil sniffed. “Your breath smells like booze! Have you been drinking?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Dan cut him.

“Damn it, Dan, I just want to know what you do! That’s so unusual of you!”

“I told you to stop trying to get inside my head!” Dan yelled.

“No, Dan, that’s enough!”

Phil finally found the courage he needed. He couldn’t go on and fear his friend. No. He had to confront him.

“If you don’t tell me what you do, I will forcefully take you to a therapist and get it out of you. I don’t even care anymore. This is all getting out of hands, you _need_ help!”

“Shut up.” Dan breathed.

“No, Dan, _you_ shut up!” Phil exclaimed. “Tell me what you do!”

“Shut up…” Dan repeated, his voice getting unsteady.

“Tell me!” Phil screamed. “Tell me or I’m going to suggest things until I’m right!”

“Shut up…”

“Alright!” Phil continued angrily. “Are you buying drugs? Are you getting high somewhere I don’t know? Do you meet up with a bunch of junkies?”

 _“Too many questions.”_ Dan inwardly cried. _“Too many questions.”_

“Are you going to a whorehouse? Are you paying people to have sex with you? Do you have an orgy with people you don’t know every two days?”

 _“Too many questions. Too many questions. Too many questions._ ”

“Do you go and get drunk? Do you go to bars until you get kicked out? Do you hit on random people you see in there?”

“ _Too many questions._ _Too many questions._ _Too many questions._ _Too many questions._ ”

“Do you steal banks? Do you vandalize things? Did you join a street gang? Are you a part of some satanic cult?”

_“Too many questions. Too many questions. Too many questions. Too many questions. Too many questions.”_

“Do go on the bridge and contemplate death? Was every night a suicide attempt? Or is it the opposite and you go around killing random people?”

_“TOO MANY QUESTIONS!!!”_

Overwhelmed, Dan stepped forward and pressed his lips against Phil’s.

Phil’s body froze. His eyes were wide open. He was too surprised to stop him and stared at Dan’s face kissing his lips. When Dan pulled away, Phil opened his mouth in shock.

He didn’t have time to add anything before Dan grabbed the back of his head with his left hand and his arm with his right and pressed his lips against his neck. He left wet kisses on the soft and sensitive skin, sending shivers down Phil’s spine.

“Dan…” Phil whispered. “No, Dan… stop… what are you doing…”

Dan kissed on the lower part of his neck and started sucking on the skin. He knew his soft spots by heart. A moan escaped Phil’s mouth without his consent.

“Dan…” He repeated, losing control over his steady voice. “Please, you know I can’t resist when you start doing that…”

Dan smiled on the skin. Of course he knew. He had one idea in mind: make Phil forget about all the questions.

Dan sucked harder and Phil’s legs weakened. He breathed on the skin and Phil shoved a moan down his throat. He was immobile, unsure of how to react. He was mad at Dan and still had a lot more questions to get answers from. But the sensations he was getting were contradicting everything he was feeling right now.

Dan hovered his lips upon Phil’s skin and crawled up his neck. He landed them behind his earlobe and kissed delicately, gracefully. Phil’s whole body tingled. Dan continued his way onto his jaw, leaving a gentle kiss behind until he reached Phil’s lips again. He was breathing heavily and Dan could feel his heart beat against his chest.

“Dan… I…” Phil whispered.

Dan looked up at him directly in the eyes. Phil was still looking hesitant, but Dan knew how to be persuasive. Dan cheekily grinned and saw Phil’s eyes shine with defeat.

Their lips collided with a roughness that was far from new to them. Phil’s hands gripped Dan’s head to get a better hold as he pushed him against the wall, forcing his tongue in and kissing him fiercely. Phil responded with the same might, forgetting completely about what they were both arguing about not only 3 minutes ago.

Dan’s hands travelled up and down Phil’s body sensually as he tugged strongly at his hair, trying to keep his balance. Their tongues met and explored each other’s mouths like there was no tomorrow. Dan could feel Phil’s erection grow on his thigh.

They were still kissing, taking sharp breaths in between to bring back air to their lungs. Dan licked the inside of Phil’s bottom lip and he felt him shiver under his grip. Feeling his own jeans tighten, Dan pushed his body closer to Phil’s. Without breaking the heated kiss, Dan took Phil’s leg and wrapped it around his hips. Phil jumped and repeated the move with his other leg. Taking in Phil’s weight, Dan stepped away from the kitchen wall.

He scurried through the hallway, their lips still glued together. He bumped against a few walls, making them both smile through the kiss before he finally reached their bedroom doors. Dan entered Phil’s room, as the door was slightly more open and gave easy access.

He tore his lips off of Phil’s and threw him on the bed. He landed roughly but grinned cheekily as Dan immediately leaned back over him and kissed him hungrily. He grabbed the bottom of Phil’s shirt and pulled it over his head hastily, throwing it in the air. He then hovered his lips again over his skin and placed them on the sensitive part of his neck. Dan started sucking on the skin, provoking a few quiet moans to escape Phil’s lips as he ruffled his hands through his hair. When he released the pressure, he admired the delicate purple spot he had just made. He breathed hot air onto it and he felt Phil shiver under him. He repeated the same thing on different parts of his neck and a few times on his collarbones, making Phil quiver and groan uncontrollably each time.

Dan had complete power over Phil and he was sure that he had probably forgotten about all the questions by now. But he didn’t stop. He continued. He hadn’t touched Phil in a long while… but he also needed to thank him for following him, for stopping him from exposing himself to Quest.

Dan grasped Phil’s sides strongly and left a trail of wet kisses down his chest and stomach, until he reached his waist. Dan smiled to himself before unbuttoning the jeans while listening to Phil’s sharp breathing. Slowly, teasingly, he pulled the jeans down Phil’s legs, making him giggle.

Smirking, Phil raised from the bed, leaned over, grabbed his jeans and pulled them down in one go.

“What a tease…” He whispered as he fell back on the bed, making Dan giggle.

Dan then delicately started massaging and pecking Phil’s inner thighs, slowly and sensually. He climbed up closer to his crotch, feeling Phil’s skin starting to bump under his touch. When he finally reached the top, he tore his lips off Phil’s skin. He could see his erection through his boxers, and it sent hot waves through his body, feeling his own grow bigger inside his tight jeans.

And with all the possible care, Dan peeled off Phil’s underwear, sliding them off his legs gracefully. Phil raised his head to look at Dan. They looked at each other deep in the eyes, and Dan, not breaking the stare for one second, carefully grabbed Phil’s cock and licked the tip sensually. Phil closed his eyes and threw his head back as he moaned, making Dan smile with satisfaction.

Phil immediately raised back up from the bed and grabbed Dan’s collar, making him jump.

“That’s not how it’s going to happen…” Phil whispered before crushing his lips onto Dan and forcefully turning him around.

Dan found himself lying on the bed with a naked Phil above him. He grinned cheekily at Phil’s dominant manners. Phil started undressing him with more haste than earlier, and they were soon a hot naked mess. They snogged heatedly until they both couldn’t breathe. They exchanged a questioning look, and they both nodded.

Dan felt Phil’s fingers waltz down his stomach and brush against his cock lightly, making him shiver. He felt a finger against his entrance and held his breath when it slid in. He was thinking that Phil had most definitely forgotten about all the questions now, and that’s what mainly made him moan when he felt a second and a third finger slide in his entrance, pumping in and out carefully to prepare him for what was coming.

His eyes were closed. He had too many thoughts in mind. So many things were contributing to his sexual pleasure at this moment as well as Phil. He didn’t want him to know, though. He didn’t to make him feel like he was thinking about other things.

Maybe he was a heartless mass murderer, but he didn’t want to make Phil feel like he didn’t desire him. Because he did.

His eyes still closed, he felt Phil’s finger slide out. He breathed out sharply and heard a draw open, then close. He heard a rustling noise, followed by another weird sound, until he felt Phil’s lips on his cheek. He breathed next to Dan’s ear before whispering: “Ready?”

Dan nodded shyly and held his breath. He kept his eyes closed as he felt Phil slowly enter him, a groan escaping both of their lips. Gently, Phil started moving his hips, sending waves of pleasure through their bodies.

Dan could feel Phil’s hot breath against his bare skin. His movements fastened and he heard a few moans escape his mouth.

Agana’s face hovered in Dan’s mind. It was followed by Bradley, then Carrie and Dave joined in. Emily and Favor finally arrived, six pairs of dead eyes staring directly at Dan. He bit his lip, moaning quietly.

Phil’s lips landed on Dan’s, smiling widely as his hips moved quicker. He lightly brushed against Dan’s prostate, making him shudder and shove a strangled moan down his throat.

Quest Kadner popped up in his mind. His confused and frustrated look plastered on his face, looking for Dan but never finding him. Puppet strings were attached to his arms and legs, and he was running in all directions as Dan controlled the strings, a devilish grin on his face.

Dan’s cheeks turned bright red and his breath got heavier. He wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck and moved his hips at the same pace as Phil’s.

He remembered stabbing Agana, and Bradley, and butchering Carrie and Dave, and gauging Emily’s eyes out and watching Favor convulse on the ground as the hydrogen peroxide dissolved her blood…

He moaned fully and loudly this time, digging his nails into Phil’s skin. Phil buried his head in the hollow of Dan’s neck, cussing and groaning.

Dan remembered the blood. All the blood. That thick red liquid pouring out the wounds, having the same effect on Dan as powerful drugs. He dipped his hands in the blood and smeared it on his whole body, moaning, shaking with pleasure.

His nails dug deeper in Phil’s back and, when he thrust directly onto his prostate, he yelled and ran his fingers down the back, scratching the skin. Phil followed his scream. Dan could feel his sweaty forehead against his neck. He hadn’t opened his eyes once to look at Phil.

Automatically, Dan’s hand slid from Phil’s back and started stroking his cock. He rolled around the dead bodies, licking the blood off their wounds as Quest Kadner ran around in circles, never seeing the puddle of blood surrounding Dan and the six dead bodies.

He felt his hand being pushed away from his cock. He let go and Phil started stroking gently, friction sending excruciatingly pleasurable waves through his whole body.

Dan was close to his climax. He threw his head back, unable to handle all the pleasure. Phil’s hips moved as fast as he could and touched Dan’s prostate each time. He tried to articulate that he was going to come, that he was so close to the edge, but Phil’s sensual groaning and the thoughts from his pattern only made moans escape his mouth each time he tried to speak.

“Ph-Phil…” He managed to breathe out, his eyes still shut. “Phil, I’m…”

Dan grabbed the bed sheets strongly, almost biting in own arm. Phil’s movements were becoming sloppy, but he gave one last thrust that sent them both over the edge.

They broke in a loud moan as ultimate pleasure crashed upon them. Dan came on his stomach and Phil’s hand, still imagining his six dead victims bleeding profusely and licking the blood. He wrapped his arms around Phil’s chest and pulled him closer as he rode out his orgasm. Phil tugged at Dan’s hair, his whining quieting down slowly.

The tension released, he melted onto Dan’s hot and sweaty body. He tried to catch his breath whilst listening to his fast heartbeat.

Dan finally opened his eyes. He glanced at Phil resting his head on his chest before staring back at the ceiling.

Despite feeling extremely good, a feeling of guilt pinched his heart. Phil looked so peaceful there, satisfied. But Dan hadn’t even thought about him. He hadn’t even looked at him.

“I love you…” He heard Phil whisper next to his ear.

Dan bit his lip. As he stared at the ceiling emptily, a salty tear slid down his cheek.

Phil had forgotten about all the questions.


	17. Chapter 17

The ring of the phone echoed throughout the whole quiet bedroom as Quest jerked awake. Disoriented, he rolled over to get up but his body fell off the bed and landed on the wooden floor. Moaning sleepily, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and picked it up.

"Quest Kadner..." He yawned, massaging the back of his head.

"Kadner, get your ass over here, you're never going to believe this."

He recognized Wade's voice.

"What?" He asked, untangling his sheets from his legs and getting up.

"We found Agana Baldwin."

Quest's eyes lit up.

"On my way."

Wade gave him the address and he hung up. He dressed up hastily, almost falling over again trying to put on his trousers, before jumping into his car and driving to the location.

When he arrived, the yellow tapes were already set. He jumped over it and ran up to where Wade Allaway and Tucker Essex where with a few of the searching crew.

"Wade!" Quest called out.

"Ah, Quest!" Wade beamed. "Would you look at this."

He pointed to a corpse lying at their feet. It was swaddled in a red coat and white fluffy scarf. Except, they were soaking wet. A few leaves and bugs were clung to them and her scarf was soaked with blood. She had long brown hair. It was tangled, damp and clinging to her face. Her skin was starting to turn black and her eyes were wide open, empty, and lifeless. Three wounds covered her face. A hole pierced her forehead, another under her chin and the last one came out through her nose. There were still blood stains surrounding them, but they had been mostly washed away by the water.

The right cheek had been slit to form the number 1, and the left had the number 16. Quest smiled widely.

"That's her." He exclaimed. "She's got the mark, Alpha's mark."

Quest paused to examine the body again.

"Where did you find her?"

Wade pointed to the sewer drain not far from her corpse.

"Took them ages to find the right one." He told, pointing in Tucker's direction.

Quest crouched down next to Agana Baldwin's dead body. He examined her wounds more carefully. They didn't look too deep, and the diameter wasn't very large. Alpha had probably used a short blade, the same or something similar to what he used on Bradley Cox. Agana Baldwin had bled profusely, though. It seemed pretty well done for a first murder, he thought. It sure had some technical errors, like the choice of weapon for instance. But, for a killer's first victim, it was pretty good.

He looked at her dead eyes and questions hit him once again.

" _How did he know that was his first victim?"_

_"Did he know at all she was going to be his first victim?"_

_"Did he know she was going to be there?"_

_"What was he doing at night at the same time as her, then?"_

_"What pushed him to act?"_

_"Was a simple name enough for him to know?"_

_"But he was scared, he hid her body..."_

_"So was her death an accident..?"_

_"An accident..."_

"Anything?" Wade asked.

"We're getting somewhere." Quest said, rubbing his forehead. He stood up. "Get her to the morgue now. I want the autopsy results as soon as possible."

Wade nodded.

"You should know, the boys have got Favor Gallagher's autopsy results." Wade announced.

"Great." Quest said. "We'll go see them after Agana Baldwin's been successfully shipped to the morgue. I also have a few things to discuss with them."

Wade nodded again. He turned to face Quest and looked at him longingly.

"You look horrible." He pointed out, referring to the bags under his eyes. "Are you tired?"

Quest considered him for a few seconds.

"Why would I be tired, Wade? I don't have time to be tired when the path is clearing itself so nicely! Tiredness means progress! I feel grand. Absolutely grand."

Allaway had a little laugh.

"I just need to clean things up in my head." Quest continued, less happily this time. "Too many puzzle pieces that don't connect fog a brain."

Wade stayed quiet. He understood.

"Alpha certainly doesn't go up to people and ask them for their name. He knows the person is going to be his victim before he knows the name, otherwise he wouldn't have followed Bradley Cox and Favor Gallagher." Quest whispered more angrily this time. "When I'll know how he gets his victims before knowing their names, then I'll sleep."

~

The cold air caressed Phil's bare skin gently and sent shivers down his spine. Half asleep, he rolled over in the bed to cuddle closer to Dan's warm body, but, as far as he stretched his arms, nothing came to his needy hands. He opened one eye and looked at the place next to him in the bed. It was empty.

Alarmed, he opened both eyes and looked around his room hastily. When he realized Dan wasn't in here anymore and that his clothes weren't on his floor, he dropped his head back on his pillow.

He buried his face in the fabric and tried his best to hold tears in.

"What did I expect...?" He whispered to himself, strongly grabbing the sheets.

It wasn't the first time Phil woke up naked and alone in a bed he had shared with Dan the previous night. It had almost become a habit.

They made love like it was the end of the world, and they both acted like nothing had ever happened the next day. They had never even seen the sunrise together. One of them always woke up cold, alone and saddened.

Phil pushed the covers, dragged himself out of bed, grabbed the first pieces of clothing he saw lying on the floor and put them on before exiting his room. He peeked through Dan's room, but he wasn't there.

He searched every room in the house, in the hope Dan could still be there, but when he reached the living room at last and the realization crashed upon him, he dropped on the sofa and sighed deeply.

That was just another night Dan used to numb his feelings.

~

The sun was shining down on the city and warming the faces. The weather was brutal, but the sun always helped for good moods.

Dan had awakened earlier today, naked and cuddled up against Phil. He had remembered the previous night and why it had happened. He had felt the guilt build up in his stomach so he had gotten out the bed, picked up his clothes from the floor, put them on and left the flat before he could let his emotions take over him and before Phil woke up.

It had to happen. Phil had been too close to the truth, and Dan couldn't let him remember. He knew Phil would remember how last night started, but he wouldn't remember what he had said exactly. That's all Dan wanted.

As he walked, the sunlight hitting his face, he tried to brush last night's acts out of his head. He tried to ignore how he knew Phil would feel when he would wake up alone once again, and he tried to focus on his own feelings.

If he let everything around affect him, it would ruin the work he had to complete.

In addition, he had lost his seventh victim. If he focused too much on other things, he would forget the essential: find the guy, and kill him.

His physical description was stuck in his mind, luckily. Glasses on the tip of his nose. Long hair, light brown. Navy coat. Beige scarf. If he saw him again, he was pretty sure he would recognize him. Although, Dan mostly hoped for his mind to give him another daydream if he saw him again.

The light turned and Dan crossed the street. He was going to get some groceries and some other stuff for himself as well. He walked with his head down, disappearing among the mass of busy people. He giggled to himself thinking about the fact that the whole population was freaking out about Alpha, but none of the people around him even knew they had just walked past him.

He lifted his head when he noticed something in the distance from the corner of his eyes. He saw a yellow 'crime scene' tape surrounding an ambulance and a few police cars a few streets away. The corners of his mouth twitched.

He shifted and decided to take a longer path to the grocery store. He crossed another street and approached the scene casually, walking around the tapes at a safe distance. Close enough just to see what was going on.

Dan saw two men standing next to each other, looking down at something he couldn't quite make out from his position. He circled the perimeter to the right, getting a better viewing angle. When he could see properly, his eyes beamed.

Agana Baldwin was lying at Quest Kadner's feet. He felt his heart beat hard against his ribcage. He hadn't seen his first victim in a while. He felt chills run across his skin.

Dan walked away, grinning. He felt his puppet strings work with even more efficiency than they ever did before. Quest was slowly tangling himself in his own.

There'd be a nice story to talk about with Phil tonight.

~

Dan pushed the door open with his shoulder, his hands busy holding too many bags. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before climbing the stairs and having to face the cold awkwardness that would set between him and Phil.

He went to the kitchen and emptied his bags silently. The flat was quiet in itself, Dan could only hear the fainted sound of the television. After putting everything away, he checked the time. It was only 12:40. The news about Agana would only be announced tonight, so he still had a lot of time to swallow down the awkwardness with Phil.

He exhaled deeply before walking to the lounge. He was greeted by a rather tired looking Phil sitting on the sofa, laptop on his lap, barely watching the television in front of him.

Dan didn't really know what he was doing there. He could've easily walked back to his room and stayed there until the evening news. Maybe deep down he simply couldn't stand knowing Phil was still upset about what they had done and he had to make the discomfort vanish as soon as possible.

When he entered, Phil didn't move. It was as if he didn't even notice him. But he definitely had. Dan walked a few steps, sat down at the table, looking in Phil's direction. He coughed lightly.

Still not a word. Dan rolled his eyes.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey." Phil simply replied, not leaving his eyes from the screen.

Dan noticed Phil was wearing a hoodie and that the hood was placed cleverly so the skin on his neck wasn't visible. Dan remembered the numerous love bites he had given Phil as well as the scratches on his back. Love bites always ended up in shame bites for both of them.

"...How are you?" Dan asked a bit awkwardly.

"Fine." Phil sighed. "You?"

"Good, good."

Oh God. That was awkward.

"I went and got groceries." Dan said. "So there's food if you're hungry, I already ate, so..."

"Oh, I didn't notice you were out." Phil replied.

Dan's hands clenched into fists under the table. Sassy Phil trying to make Dan feel terrible, no, that wasn't going to happen. All the times Phil had done the same to him, for fuck's sake!

"Great." Dan simply said. He got up and walked to the exit before he stopped in the doorframe. He sighed.

"Phil?"

"What is it?"

"Please, look at me." Dan begged.

Phil's head turned slowly.

"About last night..."

Phil's features tensed up. He unconsciously lifted a hand to his neck.

"Um, you know, outside, when you followed me..?" Dan specified since that wasn't the only thing they had done last night.

Phil's face sunk and his hand dropped. He nodded, waiting for Dan to continue.

"I thought about it and I understand." He paused to use the right words. "I understand that you care about me and that you simply want the best for me. I also understand that knowing what I get up to doing my nocturnal walks would help you to help me get better, but, you too have to understand something. As I told you a few weeks ago, there are things I don't feel comfortable sharing with you. And if you push me too much, I get overwhelmed."

Phil was just staring at him, listening carefully.

"I just want you to know that it's not personal. I've got issues, man, I know, I'm fucked up. I just need to clean things up in my head."

Phil closed his eyes and nodded lightly.

"Perhaps you'll know one day?" Dan continued. "But right now, I need time for myself, you know? I need to breathe."

Phil considered him for a few seconds that felt like hours.

"I appreciate that." He finally replied with a sincere tone. "Thank you."

Dan smiled shyly and nodded. He then walked out the door and went back to his room.

He lay on his bed and admired the ceiling.

"I'm fucked up." Dan repeated to himself. "I sure am."

He slid his hand under his pillow and grabbed his penknife. He switched the blade and stabbed it in his stomach, and again and again, and again, and he laughed maniacally as the blood squirted on his hands, on his bed, on his legs, on his arms, and again, again, again,  _again..._

He blinked.

"And I love it."

~

"Oh, Quest! Glad you could make it!" Vincent exclaimed when the detective walked into the room. "Jesus and I found a few things, and, honestly, it might have been one of the cleverest murders from Alpha so far."

Quest nodded. Vincent shook Wade's hand before they all walked to the meeting room where Zarah, Dallas and Jesus were already seated. The newcomers took their usual places.

"Don't bother with waiting for Essex," Wade said, "he's still with the research team. They found Agana Baldwin."

They all gasped.

"Really?!" Jesus exclaimed, his eyes glowing.

"Yes. Her body should be shipped here shortly."

"Alright, go on then you two, I want to know what you've got." Quest told.

Jesus Harrigan and Vincent Talley both nodded.

"Favor Gallagher, 28 years old. Found dead in an alleyway. Cause of death: heart attack." Jesus announced.

"We noticed some burst veins on her skin, and, after analysing her blood, we discovered it was a total mess in there." Vincent continued. "We actually found a chemical compound inside of her bloodstream. It was H2O2, hydrogen peroxide. Turns out hydrogen peroxide completely dissolves blood. It foams up because it breaks into its pure components, leaving no space for blood circulation. Her heart kept pumping but her veins were just clogged up."

"He injected it twice." Jesus proceeded. "In her jugular and in her brachial artery."

Dallas was displaying his shots on the table as the forensics explained. Quest looked at them while listening carefully.

"We approximate the time of death around 8:30 to 9PM last Wednesday. Apart from that, not much else. There's the mark on her cheeks, but we all already know what that means and that she didn't die from it."

Quest nodded, still staring at the pictures.

"Mello?" Quest asked.

"Yeah, sure." Zarah said. "Uh, I checked her wallet, I found no fingerprints at all. It's pretty odd since it would most likely at least have Favor Gallagher's fingerprints on it, but there was none. So, your theories are probably right, Kadner. No matter how the events leading up to the murder happened, Alpha took a hold of her wallet and erased his fingerprints right after. Other than that, there was nothing else at the crime scene."

"Favor Gallagher drops her wallet in the tube, the black hooded man picks it up and runs up to her, leads her into the alleyway and kills her."

"Uh, sorry, the what?" Zarah asked, confused.

"The black hooded man." Quest repeated. "It's Alpha. I've got a suspect."

Everyone opened wide eyes.

"Since when?!" Dallas exclaimed. "Wh- how?"

"Wade and I examined the security cameras tapes from Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans' visit at the cinema and we found the ones of Favor Gallagher getting in and getting out the Underground station before her death. On all the tapes, this 6 feet tall black hooded man with a backpack is in the frame. I've grown to suspect him."

"Okay... do you have a picture of his face? We could broadcast it." Zarah asked.

"Unfortunately not." Quest said. "He seems to be very good at staying incognito."

"Grand." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest.

"You should know that I was in charge of breaking the news to Favor Gallagher's family after her sister called the police because she thought she was missing." Wade said.

Quest turned to him. "I didn't know that."

"Well, now you know. I talked with them to try and get any clue out of them. Her sister, who lives with her, said that she was persuaded that Alpha was after her."

"What?" Zarah exclaimed. "How could she think that? I mean, she had one chance in a million?"

"Her sister doesn't know. She says she was obsessed, paranoid about it. She stayed indoors, slept most of the time, and when she had to go out, it took 20 minutes of building up the courage. She even said that when she went out with her, she was constantly observing people and whispering to herself, plotting escape plans if Alpha struck. She also said that Wednesday morning, the day she got murdered, she was very quiet and absent. She left in the afternoon and didn't hear from her since."

Quest's eyes were beaming.

"But how?!" Dallas exclaimed. "Can you just know when you're going to die?"

"Actually, yes, Wiseman." Quest replied calmly. "What Wade described fits perfectly to the signs of death. Your mind and body unconsciously prepare themselves to die, leading the person to feel the symptoms of pre death. Favor Gallagher knew she was going to die. On Wednesday morning, she heard the bells ring louder."

The team went quiet. Quest took a few minutes to simmer the new information in his head while everyone stared at him intensely, waiting for the rest of his explanation. Because, honestly, Quest Kadner was never done explaining.

Suddenly, Quest raised his head. His eyes were wide open and the corner of his mouth was twitching. His coworkers all tensed up.

"If Favor Gallagher simply knew she was going to die, maybe Alpha simply knows who he's going to kill." He whispered.

"Sorry... what?" Vincent asked after a few seconds of silence, confusion dwelling every inch of his face.

"Favor Gallagher experienced the signs of death, she knew she was going to die, right, so what tells us Alpha doesn't have the same thing but opposite?"

"What, so you think he's God's messenger and that he simply 'knows' who to murder because he's been enlightened?!" Jesus mocked.

"Nicely put, Harrigan." Quest commented. "But not exactly God Himself, far from that actually, but something close. Maybe some other spiritual force. A lot of murderers are convinced God or other spiritual beings asked them to commit the crimes."

"So we're after a Jesus freak? Great." Dallas sighed. "I thought we had enough of Jesus in our team, but apparently not."

Jesus and Vincent cracked a smile.

"Okay, if he gets 'orders' from above," Zarah questioned, trying to stay focused on the theory instead of how much nonsense all of this was making. "Which God or... spiritual force is he getting orders from? If we knew that, we could at least do some researches about it, and, perhaps, stop it?"

She sighed at how weird these words coming out of her mouth sounded.

"Well, I don't think he gets 'orders' from a religious god, such as God or Allah." Dallas replied. "I think for once Jesus can agree with me on this; none of these gods would want to kill innocent people. If they had to kill someone, they'd have reasons."

"I see your point, Dallas, but I disagree." Jesus said. "God killed millions of people."

"Did he have a reason to kill those people?"

"Probably. But killing doesn't justify anything, does it? Be wise, man."

Dallas rolled his eyes.

"So is he working for Satan, then?" Zarah cut, fed up with the religious facts Jesus kept regurgitating at them.

"Wouldn't Satan want to kill forever?" Vincent asked. "I mean, Alpha is counting down something, he wants to get to the end of it. If I was Satan and I had complete power over someone, I'd want to kill as many people as I could for as long as I'd want."

"Quest, what do you think?" Wade asked, noticing his silence.

"Maybe Alpha is his own God."

"What do you mean?" Zarah asked.

"God never does anything accidentally. We've already established that the murder of Agana Baldwin was an accident. If Alpha had been getting 'order's from God Himself, we would've found her way before anyone else in the pattern. And Vincent said it, Satan wouldn't count down and stop his slaughter, or if he did, he would stop at a significant number, not 16. Besides, Satan is known for killing only 10 people. Also, what do letters of the alphabet have anything to do with religion or gods that are believed in?"

"So you're saying Alpha is getting orders from himself?" Zarah said, confused.

"I'm saying that Alpha is perhaps trying to earn himself God's spot on His comfy cloud."

"But how does he know who to kill?" Dallas brought the subject again. "That brings up back to square one!"

"No, Dallas, you all established that he might be getting enlightenments from some sort of God or spiritual force. Alpha is most definitely getting enlightenments from himself, his subconscious."

"But how..." Dallas whispered, completely lost.

"The subconscious is a much unknown place." Quest said.

"This case is making less sense the further we go!" Zarah exclaimed, angry. "How could that work? There has to be another way!?"

"Mello, as much as I would like to agree with you, some cases don't make as much sense as we wish it would." Wade explained. "If you don't consider every possibility, we'll get nowhere."

"Well, honestly, knowing that doesn't help anything." Zarah scoffed. "How will knowing this help us find Alpha and stop him? We've got nothing!"

"Getting to know the murderer before you catch him is never a bad move." Wade simply replied. "Besides, we've got a suspect."

"A faceless suspect, how grand!" Dallas said sarcastically.

"If none of you have information they would like to add, then I think I should let myself out." Quest announced. "You clearly don't need me here anymore."

"That's all we had on our reports." Vincent said.

"Alright, then." Quest replied, standing up. "I guess I'm going to give the media the opportunity to announce the discovery of Agana Baldwin's corpse. Call me when you have the result of her autopsy. I'll keep an eye on the suspect."

"Wait, Quest, come on, don't be childish." Zarah said, gesturing him to sit down.

"My theories don't seem to please you, so I don't see why I should bother hanging around any longer."

Zarah took a deep breath.

"No, that's not what I said..." She explained carefully. "It's just hard to believe as what you are saying doesn't have a physical form. You're talking about something spiritual or whatever, we're just having a hard time actually believing in your words and even more in what you're describing."

"You need to be more open minded, then, Agent Mello." Quest replied, sitting back down slowly. "Because if you decide to deny the fact that Alpha might be considering himself as a God, he's going to slip right through your fingers."

She nodded.

"If we send patrol cars close to where Alpha could potentially kill other people, could this lead us somewhere?" she said.

"I was thinking that myself, in fact, I patrolled by myself the other night near Favor Gallagher's crime scene. Nothing important to report. Yes, I suppose."

Quest remembered his encounter with Rupert at the bar that same night. Something pounded in his head, the inevitable sign of pre headache startling him.

"Send a team near every Underground station of each crime scene." He ordered.

They all nodded.

~

Dan spent most of his day in his room. The awkwardness with Phil after they had a night of love always dispelled near the end of the day after, so he waited patiently until Phil would willingly talk to him.

He was on his laptop most of the day, sitting on his bed with his door closed. He didn't want to push Phil, and he knew staying in the same room as him would only make things worse. Anyway, he was attached to the strings Dan was controlling, he'd end up crawling back to him one day or another.

In the meanwhile, trapped in between the four walls of his room, Dan tried to write down ideas for videos, but it didn't turn out very successful. He even considered masturbating, as he knew Phil wouldn't care about him until a few more hours. He tried, but it didn't turn out as satisfying as it could've been. His lost victim kept hovering in his mind and bothered every single one of his nerves. He even tried fingering himself, but memories of the previous night kept flashing at him and nothing felt pleasurable anymore.

He paced around a few times, whispering to himself that he would find him again, that he would do everything it took. He also played piano. He tried composing, but gave up soon enough to play songs he actually knew how to play, and Dan could've sworn he heard Phil walk to his own bedroom only when he was playing, and once he was done, his footsteps slowly fainted into the hallway.

Dan's loneliness ended, as he expected, a few hours later when he heard Phil's panicked voice calling out his name.

"What?" He yelled back, frowning.

"COME HERE, QUICK!" Phil exclaimed.

Concerned, Dan pulled his laptop out of his lap, jumped out of his bed and rushed to the living room where he found Phil, standing still and staring intensely at the television screen in front of him.

"Wha-" Dan began.

"Listen!" Phil cut him pointing the screen with his finger.

Dan turned his head to the screen. A woman neatly dressed was sitting in front of a desk holding papers in her hands. He started listening mid-sentence.

_"-body was found dead at the bottom of a sewer earlier this morning. Agana Baldwin had been reported missing for almost two weeks now. The police reported she was stabbed multiple times in her face and her cheeks had also been marked with numbers. They are certain her death is associated with the famous mass murderer we have been covering the last few weeks, Alpha, who seems to kill his victims in alphabetical order. In the same matter, this murderer has made yet another victim last Wednesday, Favor Gallagher. She was found dead in an alleyway and after an autopsy, police found out she had been injected a deadly substance. They demand for citizens to stay on their guards, to be very careful and to not stroll outside alone during night time unless absolutely necessary. And now the weather, how are we holding on-"_

Dan begged every muscle of his face to drop the huge smile that covered most of it. Instead of talking and risking to say something suspicious, he waited for Phil to react.

"She's dead..." Phil finally said. "Oh God, she's dead..."

"Why do you care so much?" Dan asked. "Did you know her or something?"

"It's not the fact that I knew her or not, Dan!" Phil replied. "Two weeks ago we were just talking about her disappearance! And now she's dead..."

"People die every day, Phil..." Dan began.

"Yes, but, Dan, she was killed!" Phil exclaimed. "And there was another death! And it was the same killer! And he killed five other people as well, and he's going to kill so many more and... and..."

He stopped. He looked at Dan from head to toe.

"Why am I the only one freaking out here?!" He blurted out. "Why am I the only one concerned about dying?!"

"I already told you how I feel about this, Phil. You have like one chance in a million to die."

"Dan, I'm scared!" Phil whined, grabbing his arm strongly. "I'm so scared, what the hell is happening?! It's been two weeks and six deaths! Why all of this violence?! I'm terrified, I don't want to die, I'm-"

"Phil, Phil, you're not going to die..." Dan tried to reassure him.

"How can you know, Dan? How can you know?" He continued, his grip becoming tighter on his arm. "How am I safer than someone else, huh?"

"You're too paranoid about this whole thing!" Dan retorted. "They said to be careful but they didn't say to start panicking and dig your nails in your friend's skin- ouch!"

Phil's fingers relaxed slightly.

"You know what I'm more concerned about?" Phil asked, more composed this time.

"No..." Dan said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"You."

Dan paused. Phil's words had been pronounced without any hesitation, without an angry or a loving tone. It had just been said as a plain little word.  _You._

"What about me..?" Dan questioned, confused.

"You're always going for nocturnal walks." Phil pointed out.

"Yes..?" Dan replied, not getting where Phil was trying to get at.

"This crazy mass murderer could get you, Dan!" His panicked tone was coming back slowly. "And as you won't even tell me what you do on those night strolls, that gets worrying for me! I don't want to be watching the news one day and hear the name 'Daniel Howell' be pronounced!"

Dan had a little laugh.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Alpha won't get to me."

"Why are you saying that?" Phil retorted. "How can you be so sure?"

"Well, first off D has already been eliminated off the pattern so I don't see why I would be any useful to Alpha's pattern..."

"Don't say 'eliminated'..." Phil cut. "You make it sound like some type of... game... Twisted, demented game!"

Dan scoffed inwardly.

"And stop calling the murderer 'Alpha', it sounds like you're its best friend or whatever..."

"Oh, come on, everyone calls him like that, it's not a favor I'm making him! And it's quite a nice name."

"Why 'him'?" Phil asked.

His hand dropped off Dan's arm.

"What?"

"You said 'everyone calls  _him_  like that', why 'him'?"

"Uh..." Dan's mind raced. Had he fucked up? "I don't know, I was just saying..."

Phil nodded, his eyes squinted lightly. He stepped back.

"Look, if you're so terrified of dying, when you need to go out, I'll just go with you..." Dan suggested.

"While you don't even want to tell me what you do on your night strolls?" Phil cocked a brow.

"It's different..." Dan whispered.

"I don't see how it's different, to be honest. Besides, last time we went out together we walked straight to one of that killer's victim's crime scene, so no thanks!"

"Oh, come on, we went out together plenty of times and it happened only once!" Dan riposted.  "Well... twice for me... but..."

"What!?" Phil uttered.

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you I stumbled across Agana Baldwin's crime scene while going to the shops this morning. I saw the same detective we saw together. Didn't get to talk to him, though."

"Dan, stop, I'm going to throw up. I'm thinking about the eye cereals again..."

"Yeah, same, wasn't a pretty view to be honest. She was all black and decayed and covered in blood and-"

"Shut up, okay, great, thank you for sharing!" Phil cut, plugging his ears with his hands.

Dan had a small laugh and smiled. He took Phil's hands and unplugged his ears.

"I'm sorry." He apologised, still smiling gleefully. "I won't talk about it anymore. But, seriously, stop worrying so much. You know, you care about me getting better but it works on both sides. I care about you not being scared. And I'll be there to protect you if that's what you need."

Phil half smiled.

"Thanks. Good to know we can count on one another."

Without warning, Dan's fist landed square onto Phil's face. He fell backwards, destabilized, and Dan took the opportunity to grasp him by the belt. He dragged him near the window, too dazed to fight against his grip. He opened it hastily and balanced Phil's body over the edge. When he was starting to get oriented again, Dan pushed him over the edge and watched his body fall violently to the ground.

"Sixteen!" He exclaimed cheerfully, waving his hand down at the broken Phil.

Dan jerked lightly.

"Did you..." Phil began.

"No." Dan cut.

Phil didn't argue.

"...Did you feel any urges today?" He asked shyly.

Phil cringed at his own question. He knew clearly that it included the one-night stand factor, and they both knew Dan had gotten it.

"No..." Dan lied. "No, I didn't."

Dan thought the question was badly asked. 'Did you not feel urges' was more accurate considering he spent every single second of everyday with urges to kill. But, Phil didn't know that.

"Uh, good." Phil said. "I'm, uh, always here if you need to get something out."

"I know." Dan simply replied.

Phil seemed more relaxed. Dan could always find the words to soothe him. Though, he looked like there was something left bothering him.

"Can I..?" He finally asked, pointing at Dan's forearms.

Dan shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to show Phil his flesh. He was past the useless arguments trying to convince Phil self-harming was among the things he actually  _didn't_  do. He examined it carefully and nodded him he had passed the test.

"You know, it's not the only place people who actually have the issue take it on themselves, right?" Dan question after rolling down his sleeves again.

"I know." Phil sighed. "But your wrists are clean and you don't seem too miserable today. I saw your thighs and stomach yesterday and there was nothing."

Dan gulped. Phil had some nerves to talk about the incident so early on. He didn't add anything.

"I will trust my instincts which are saying you didn't do anything else there today."

Dan smiled shyly. But the odd, bothered glimmer in Phil's eyes wouldn't wear off. Dan felt the awkwardness built up inside of him, so as he was about to leave, Phil spoke again.

"Dan..."

"What is it?"

"I've noticed something."

Dan's heartbeat went a bit quicker.

"Which is?"

"Everything I've been discovering lately- by that I mean the drugs, the self-harm, the one-night stands, the daydreams, the depression..."

Dan had stopped breathing.

"It all started like two weeks ago. After the day you had that stupid food poisoning."

Dan swallowed hard. "Does that correlate with anything?"

"No..." Phil said. "It's just... It's weird. How did I not notice anything before that? Why is everything coming out  _now_?"

"No idea, Phil..." Dan replied, trying to keep his anxiety low profile.

Feeling too uncomfortable, he decided it was time for him to leave. He walked away and didn't stop even though Phil was still talking to him in his back.

"It all started two weeks ago, when you made that bloody video about psycho thoughts..."

Dan almost sprinted back to his room. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Phil was starting to get less and less oblivious about what was truly happening, and Dan didn't know if he felt happy or anxious about it anymore. 


	18. Chapter 18

On Saturday morning, Dan was surprised to wake up earlier than Phil. He had had an awful night of sleep, anyway. Any attempts at falling back asleep turned out to fail miserably.

He supposed it was because of the endless anxiety he had felt the evening before. Phil was getting close to the pattern, Dan had to do something to keep him away. He wasn't sure if playing depressed would work for much longer. He guessed he could only wait to find out.

Dan ate his breakfast sleepily, his neck hurting from sleeping in a weird angle and his whole body aching for rest. After ending up eating, he took a shower to try and relax his tensed muscles. When he walked back to his room with a towel tightly wrapped around his hips, he noticed that Phil's bedroom door was open and that he wasn't in it anymore.

He shrugged and got dressed. He walked back to the living room where he found Phil munching on some toasts.  _"He really got thrown off by the Blind Breakfast, didn't he?"_  Dan thought to himself, laughing inwardly.

Phil greeted him with a wave and Dan replied with a quiet "morning". He sat on the couch, put his laptop on his thighs and opened up his favorite websites to check out what was new.

"Sleep well?" Phil asked after swallowing up his bite.

"Awfully." Dan replied. "You?"

"Extraordinary well, actually." Phil said, nodding his head vigorously to support his words.

"At least that makes one of us."

Phil nodded again, biting in his toast. He stared at Dan intensely, waiting for him to add something. But he didn't. He tried coughing awkwardly, but Dan still didn't tell anything.

"It's, uh, nice out." Phil said, trying to catch Dan's attention.

"It is." He simply replied, still staring at his computer screen.

"Nice day to, uh, celebrate." Phil hinted.

"Celebrate what?" Dan asked, confused.

"Oh, I don't know, being alive. Existing. Knowing that 2 plus 8 equals 10 and that 10 times 3 equals 30."

"What are you on about?" Dan giggled, leaving the screen to give Phil a look full of confusion and amusement.

"Nothing. Forget about that."

Phil got up, took his plate and exited the lounge. Shrugging, Dan turned back to the screen.

He needed to find his victim again. It was getting late. He had to go tonight. He would dig every little corner to find him again, follow every underground line if that's what it took. If he waited more, he felt like he was putting off the pattern. He needed to go further.

But it was becoming more difficult now that Quest Kadner had another body to examine. Dan was sure he wouldn't find anything compromising, but still. He had to stay careful.

"2 plus 8 equals 10 and 10 times 3 equals 30." Phil's words echoed in his mind again. What did that even mean? Dan didn't search further. Phil was the best at saying words that didn't really mean anything.

Suddenly, about 5 minutes later, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He grabbed it and looked at the notification. Some irrelevant person had texted him.

He was about to put his phone back next to him when something clicked in his head. 2 plus 8 equals 10 and 10 times 3 equals 30. He looked back at his phone and checked the date. His mouth dropped.

January 30th. Phil's 28th birthday.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Dan exclaimed. "How could I forget, oh, my God... I haven't even got a gift..."

Dan turned hastily to the door. He heard the fainted sound of the shower. He took a deep breath.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!"

He started typing fast on his keyboard. He needed to get Phil something, right now. He remembered a shirt he had seen the other day and had considered getting for himself. He found the link again and decided he'd order it for Phil. Anyway, they both had around the same tastes.

He then jumped off the couch and raced to the office. He grabbed the first paper he saw and tore it into small pieces. In the distance, he heard the shower stop. Dan raised his head in panic. He grabbed the torn pieces of paper, ran up to the bathroom just in time for Phil to get out with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" Dan exclaimed, throwing the pieces at Phil like confetti.

"What the..." Phil said as the paper clung to his wet skin.

Dan noticed the hickeys on Phil's flesh. He gulped and Phil instinctively brought a hand to his neck when he finally registered Dan was standing in front of him and could see his exposed skin.

"What are you doing?" Phil asked, confused and turning mildly red.

"You thought I had forgotten, didn't you?" Dan said with an amused tone, trying not to sound embarrassed or nervous. "Haha, got you!"

Phil picked a piece of paper from his chest and let it fall to the ground.

"Oh really?" He asked, cocking his head.

"Of course, why would I forget about your birthday?" Dan laughed nervously.

"I don't know. A human can forget loads of things when they have other things in mind."

Dan smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, uh, for your gift, well... It hasn't delivered yet..." Dan half-lied. "I don't know what happened, it was supposed to be there like two days ago at least..."

"Ah, don't worry about it." Phil smiled. "Thanks for remembering!"

Phil walked past Dan to get to his bedroom. Dan had a full view of the scratches he had left on Phil's back that were starting to fade away. He remembered that night, and the previous events. The victim Phil had made him lose. Dan had an idea.

"When you're done dressing up you better be ready to get out." Dan announced before Phil could disappear upstairs.

"Why?" He asked.

"It's your birthday, silly, I'm taking you out of this place and we're going to have fun for once!" Dan beamed.

"But-" Phil began.

"No but's!" Dan cut. "I'm with you so no panicking about that Alpha dude. Oh, I almost forgot, everything's on me."

"Really?" Phil asked, surprised.

"If I'm telling you so! So get ready before I change my mind!"

Phil simply grinned. He turned around and went up the stairs

Dan smiled wider. For Phil, it would just be a birthday hang out. But for Dan... It would be an opportunity to look for his lost victim without looking suspicious. This was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh, Phil, what would I do without you..."

"Did you say anything?" He heard Phil's voice.

"Uh... no..." Dan replied, blushing deeply.

~

Saturdays were just pain by the handful. Quest's weekends had everything to make a living hell out of his life. What did a friendless bachelor even do on weekends?

His work was the only thing that kept his mind right on track, which his mum found very ironic.

"How can murders and violence keep a man's mind on the right track?! That's the recipe for a madman!"

was what she constantly repeated him when he visited her on rare occasions.

Usually, on Saturdays and Sundays, he always found some extra work to do. But this time, he couldn't forge ahead.

He was only affiliated to one case, Alpha's one, and nothing new had come out. He had to wait for Agana Baldwin's autopsy for new information, which would probably take the whole day.

The only information he could dwell on at the moment was the fact that Alpha considered himself as his own god, and that he hadn't killed in three days.

Sitting on his couch, staring at the turned off television screen, he was trying to figure out how to occupy his time. He wasn't 20 anymore, he couldn't just stay in his bed and sleep through the whole day.

He sighed deeply and grabbed his coat. He threw it over his shoulders and took his keys before exiting his flat.

~

"I've never felt more like a tourist in my entire life and I'm not even one." Phil exclaimed.

Dan giggled beside him. "It's not like you ever visited the Tower of London before."

"True, but that doesn't erase the fact that I feel like a freaking tourist right now."

"Well, at least you don't have a camera around your neck and you're not wearing a Hawaiian shirt."

"Why would any actual tourist wear the Hawaiian shirt? Firstly, we're in London- not quite the sunniest place. And, secondly, it's winter!"

"Shut up, you get me." Dan replied, grinning.

A beefeater walked past them and waved gracefully. Dan replied with a polite smile and Phil rolled his eyes.

"Well, now it's official, even the beefeaters think we're identical twins from Germany on a trip to London!"

"Get over yourself, we only have the Crown Jewels to see left. Then I'm taking you out of here." Dan laughed.

"Great, and then you're going to take me to the London Eye, is that it?" Phil retorted.

"How did you guess?"

"I hate you." Phil sniggered.

They entered the section where the Crown Jewels were and Phil tried to suppress his tourist issues. But, he soon forgot about them when he stepped on the conveyor belt to get across the impressive glass cage containing several jewels.

"Now we're talking! Conveyor belts? We need this at the grocery store, seriously."

Dan smiled weakly beside him. He was getting impatient. His victim probably wouldn't be in a place like this, why did he even bring Phil here?

While Phil awed at a golden punch bowl that literally looked like a bathtub, Dan started biting his nails. They had to get out now, he couldn't handle it anymore.

"You're right, I feel too much like a tourist now, how about we hurry the pace and get out of here?" Dan whispered.

"You're suggesting this only now when I'm starting to have fun?" Phil replied, disappointed.

"Fine, whatever, keep looking but I really need to get out, I'm suffocating here, I'll be waiting at the exit."

Dan turned around to find the exit but Phil grabbed his arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, worried.

"Yeah, I, uh, need to breathe."

Dan tried turning around again but Phil's grip got tighter.

"I'll hurry up, then." Phil said. "I'll be there in 5 minutes or less."

Dan simply nodded and Phil let go of his arm. He followed the hallway and finally exited the place. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself down.

He didn't understand what was happening to him. He couldn't control his emotions and feelings as well as he used to. Anxiety seemed to seize him up more often than usual. That wasn't good.

He had to find his next victim and quick.

Phil came through the exit 5 minutes later like he had said. He poked Dan's arm, making him jump.

"You okay?" Phil asked again.

"Yeah, yeah." Dan rubbed his face with both hands.

"Is it the..." Phil lowered his voice so only Dan could hear. "drugs..?"

"What?" Dan said, confused.

"Well, you haven't taken anything in a while, you must be craving it..."

"Oh, the drugs, uh, yeah, maybe." Dan lied.

"Keep going, you're doing very well!" Phil encouraged.

"I swear if I smoked I would be going on full chimney mode right now." Dan said truthfully this time.

"What do you mean 'if I smoked'?" Phil wondered.

Dan frowned, confused.

"Oh so you're telling me you're doing a whole lot of drugs but you don't smoke? Please."

Dan rolled his eyes. He didn't add anything.

"Anyway, why are you saying this? Are you anxious?"

Dan nodded vigorously.

"What are you anxious about?"

The questions were coming back. Dan didn't like it.

"No idea. I just am." He replied, tapping his fingers on his legs frenetically. "Can we get out now?"

He started walking towards the exit before Phil could reply. He followed behind, trying to keep up with Dan's pace.

"You know, it's probably just a side effect of stopping on the drugs." He heard Phil say behind him. "You're addicted to it and your body needs it, that's why you feel anxious. You just have to fight the urges."

Dan ignored him. When they were finally out, he led Phil towards the Tower Bridge.

"Where are we off to now?" Phil asked after a few minutes of silence.

"London Eye. It's still early so we won't be against the light."

Dan was still walking faster than usual, making Phil struggle to follow him through the people. He scanned the crowd, hoping to see that face, the guy he saw a few nights ago... his next victim... but he wasn't there... where was he... where was he?!

"Dan, slow down..." Phil exclaimed, pushing to the side an Asian couple posing with the impressive bridge.

He looked at every face, a red x scratching them off his mental list.  _So many people, so many people, so many people..._

Suddenly, he paused. His heart stopped beating, his ears started buzzing, his breath cut systematically. He stopped walking so abruptly that Phil bumped on his back, making him crawl back to reality.

A well-known face was among the crowd, coming onto the bridge from a distance. But it wasn't his next victim. No. It was Quest Kadner.

Dan looked from Quest to Phil frenetically, thinking at velocity he never thought was humanly possible. He couldn't let Quest see Phil. Mostly because in his head, Dan was called Rupert, and that it would probably end up very badly for everyone, but also because if Quest saw Dan and Phil together again, he would probably bring back the crime scene they had met him at, and Phil's questions would start burning brighter on his lips.

"Finally, Jesus, are you racing me or something?" Phil exclaimed.

Dan tore his eyes from Quest. He stared back at Phil and grabbed his arm.

"You know what, change of plans!" Dan uttered, walking in the direction they had just come from.

"What..." Phil said, confused.

"The London Eye can wait, but hunger comes abruptly and it's a pain in the ass! Aren't you hungry? What am I saying? Of course you are!"

"Dan, what are you playing at?"

He looked back at Quest who was now on the bridge. For a moment, they almost made eye contact. Dan's blood curdled and he accelerated the pace.

"I'm hungry!"

"There's restaurants right on the other side of the bridge!"

"Phil, it's your birthday, I won't make you eat at those crappy restaurants, come on!"

Phil almost got angry, but he could never be, because Dan was doing all of this for him, and he could see the improvements he made with his addictions and depression.

He only grinned and followed Dan who was still holding his arm tightly, trying the best he could to hold himself together.

~

If he couldn't do anything that had to do with his work, Quest decided that walking mindlessly until he couldn't feel his legs anymore was probably the best idea to drown the loneliness. That could also probably give him the opportunity to look around and see if anything looked unusual.

He was close to the Tower Bridge. He had just gotten out a small restaurant to satisfy his hunger and was now heading towards it, not really knowing where he was going.

He liked to think he was walking among doctors, among secretaries, musicians, students, cashiers, other undercover detectives, a mass murderer. So many different people was what made this world what it was.

Mass murderers weren't necessarily nice to have around, but they were what made Quest's job able to be, so, sometimes, when he felt good, or extremely lonely, he thanked them silently for giving him the opportunity to have something to do with his pitiful life.

Just as he was getting on the bridge, something in the distance caught his eye. He noticed two quite tall figures away in front of him, and the taller one turned his head around in a swift movement. He stared directly at Quest before continuing his way, holding his friend tightly by the arm.

Quest's eyebrows furrowed. The man looked familiar. Was it... Rupert?

His head started burning. He held his forehead with his hand, realizing that a migraine was slowly coming. Sighing, he brushed the two tall individuals off his mind and decided he would find a bench to sit down and stare at the river until he felt slightly better.

~

"AAAH, FUCK!"

"Oh, God! I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"

"Dan, are you okay?"

"It's burning, shit! Aaah, aah, fuck..."

"Jesus, I'm so sorry! Here, take this napkin..."

Dan snatched the towel from the man's hands and quickly sponged the boiling coffee that had just been dropped all over his chest and legs. He hissed sharply, waving his shirt to try and cool down the liquid so it didn't melt his flesh anymore.

"I'm literally so sorry!" The stranger apologised for the third time. "If I can do anything..."

"Just fuck off!" Dan exclaimed angrily, still sponging his jeans, shirt and coat.

The man simply nodded, frightened, and left.

"Dan! No need to be rude!" Phil whispered, fetching more napkins so he could wipe off as much coffee as possible.

"That twat just dropped his entire boiling coffee on me, why would I be fucking polite to him!?" Dan retorted.

Phil rolled his eyes.

"Let's just get out of here." Dan muttered.

He stormed out the restaurant, Phil running up behind him.

"You don't need to get angry like that." Phil pointed out. "That poor guy didn't do it on purpose."

"He still ruined my clothes!" Dan exclaimed.

"We'll wash them!" Phil replied.

"Yeah, can I wash off the burn scars he left on my body as well?"

"Ah, come on, I'm pretty sure it didn't scar you!"

With a look of challenge, Dan lifted up his shirt, showing the skin where the coffee had touched him. Both of them looked down, and his flesh was reddish.

"See, you're not a burn victim."

Grimacing, Dan put back down his shirt.

"I'm pretty sure my thighs are worse." He scolded.

"Mmh." Phil giggled. "Are we still going to the London Eye then?"

"Of course we are!" Dan exclaimed, surprised. "What, did you think coffee on my clothes would stop me from bringing you onto that damned Ferris wheel?"

"Perhaps."

"What is it, are you scared or something?" Dan teased.

"Of course not!" Phil replied. "It's just... what's the point?"

"There's no point." Dan said. "That's the point."

"Wait, what?"

"There's no point to the London Eye, just fucking enjoy the view with me, you turnip!"

Phil snorted.

"If you come with me, we'll go back home soon enough so you can do your live show, and in the meanwhile I'll make you a freaking cake, put goddamn sprinkles on it, make whatever you want for dinner, and then we'll watch whatever movie you want to watch, cool?"

"Not sure I trust your cooking!" Phil snickered, shoving Dan with his shoulder.

"I hate you." Dan laughed, shoving Phil in turn.

~

"Wow..."

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I've never seen the city from this angle before."

Dan grinned to himself.

"I told you you'd like it."

Phil didn't say anything. He sat down next to Dan on the bench. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't a lot of people in their cabin. Including them, they were eight.

"Happy birthday." Dan said.

"Thanks..." Phil replied, staring at the horizon.

A silence settled between them.

"It's weird to think Alpha could be in the same cabin as us right now." Phil whispered in Dan's ear.

Dan's skin crawled.

"Why are you saying that?" He murmured. "You're such a party pooper."

Phil smirked.

"I know. But I've been thinking about it all day. It's weird to know you walk among doctors, secretaries, musicians, students, cashiers, undercover detectives and probably mass murderers..."

Dan kept quiet.

"We'd have a horrible death if he was in here with us." Phil pointed out.

Dan worked every muscle to keep a straight face.

"But, like you said, I have nothing to fear, right?" Phil continued, facing Dan. "You're with me."

"You don't have to worry as long as you're with me." Dan replied, smirking.

They looked at each other longingly. The urge to land their lips onto the others was swelling bigger inside of them. Phil shifted his body, but his hand brushed Dan's in the way. Realizing that their faces were getting dangerously close to each other, they recoiled shamefully and stared in opposite directions.

"Thanks for doing all of this for my birthday, Dan. I really appreciate it." Phil spluttered to try and diffuse the awkwardness that had settled.

"No problem." Dan simply replied, still looking away from Phil.

~

Dan and Phil had managed to come back home two hours later than Phil's usual live show schedule. As soon as they stepped in their apartment, Dan hurried to strip off his coat, shirt and jeans. He couldn't stand the smell of coffee that had followed him all day anymore.

"Wow, what are you doing?" Phil screamed and put his hands in front of his eyes when he saw a shirtless Dan pushing down him jeans.

"I can't fucking stand that smell anymore!" Dan exclaimed, running to the laundry room with his stained clothes in his hands.

"That couldn't have waited like 2 minutes the time you get to your room and change in other clothes?"

"I've been waiting 7 hours to get these off my body, so, please!" Dan yelled back, shoving his clothes in the washing machine.

"Whatever..." Phil whispered to himself.

"Now just go on with your live show, I'm taking care of everything."

"Alright."

Dan started the washing machine and almost sprinted to his room. He grabbed the first shirt and the first pair of jeans he saw, threw them on and ran to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge hastily, grabbing eggs, butter and milk. He dropped them on the counter to grab flour, sugar, some other goodies they had in their cabinets, as well as bowls, a wooden spoon and a whisk. He put them alongside his cold ingredients and ran his hands through his hair nervously

He didn't have the time to bake a cake with love and care. He had to go out at this instant and find his next victim or he would explode. Going out with Phil had turned out to be a very stressful experience and mainly a huge failure. Not for Phil who, surprisingly enough, had had a whole lot of fun experimenting new things, but for Dan. He was becoming paranoid. That wasn't very good for a psychopath trying to stay low profile.

So instead of looking up a recipe online or scavenging through Phil's cooking books, Dan went on with a simple memory. He and his dad had cooked enough cupcakes when he was younger, without mentioning the numerous cooking videos he and Phil had filmed, he had to remember something.

He hurriedly threw ingredients in a bowl, mixed a few together, poured in some milk and somehow got to a mixture that somewhat resembled cake batter.

Realizing he had no idea how to make an actual cake, he took his cupcake mold and poured the batter in. He then shoved it in the oven.

Dan ran out the kitchen to get to his room. He grabbed his backpack, checked for his gloves and penknife and then threw it on his back. He jogged to the entrance to get on his shoes. He then grabbed Phil's coat and put it on.

"Just going to borrow that, thank you." Dan whispered.

He heard Phil's voice echoing through the house. He had started his live show.

Bumps appeared on Dan's skin as he left the flat.

~

Dan decided he would travel the same path he had seen his victim take the last time he had seen him. His chest went up and down quickly, anxiety and paranoia almost disabled him from breathing.

Again, only a few people were around. He walked briskly, breathing heavily. He tried his best to remain calm, but his body kept betraying him.

Suddenly, as he walked past an alleyway, two large hands grabbed Dan's chest and pushed him to the side abruptly. He landed on the pavement violently, protecting his head with both arms.

Alarmed, he looked up to see his assailant. A dark skinned man was hovering above him. He had a short beard and hair. Though, he was quite thin and tall, which astonished Dan considering with how much strength he had propelled him to the ground.

Gathering his own strength, Dan kicked his foot directly in the man's crotch. He recoiled, curling up on himself as he moaned in pain. Dan zipped open his backpack swiftly and fetched his penknife as quickly as he could. He switched the blade as rage built up inside of him. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he stabbed the man's skull with a violence that was new to him. He stabbed again, sometimes in his chest, in his arms, in his legs, he stabbed, raged swelling up inside of him. He had never felt so violent, brutal. Blood spilled, staining his face and clothes. But Dan didn't care. He continued jabbing his blade in the flesh roaring like an animal.

"Sixteen, sixteen, sixteen, sixteen, sixteen!"

Dan blinked. The man was still looking at him with anger in his eyes. That wasn't the man he had seen the other night! Why was his mind commanding to murder him?!

The man's large hands grasped Dan's coat collar strongly, pulling him up from the ground.

"We finally meet." He whispered.  _"Alpha."_

Dan gulped. He put the mask on. If that's what he wanted to play at, Dan would give it to him.

"What?!" He exclaimed, his terrified face extraordinarily convincing.

The man simply stared at Dan without adding a word. Dan waited, his heartbeat going like a drum.

"Just admit it!" The man finally spat. "Admit it or I'll wreck you!"

He held a fist up to Dan's face.

"Admit what!?" Dan whined, making tears come to his eyes. "Who are you, please don't hurt me!"

"You were following us, weren't you?!" He yelled again, his grip tightening around Dan's collar which made him gasp for air. "You just want to see us in a blood puddle, is that it?!"

"No!" Dan squealed, a tear sliding down his cheek. "No! I would never want that, this is horrible! Who even are you! Please don't do anything to me, I'm still so young..!"

"Okay, enough." A voice echoed behind the black man. "Leave it."

Dan's back hit the pavement once again and felt his breath cut for a second. He then looked up to see the face that came with the voice. The man, white this time, wore a navy leather coat and a beige scarf. He had glasses on the tip of his nose and his hands were in his coat pockets. Dan's heart stopped beating completely.  _There he was._

He jumped on his feet and launched at the guy like a savage. He switched his blade and slit his throat in one go. The blood spurted out and he shoved both of his hands in the wound and pulled the sides apart. With a raving smile and a delirious twinkle in his eyes, he dug his face in the gap. He licked the blood and gnawed at the flesh.

"Sixteen, sixteen, sixteen, sixteen, sixteen!"

Dan pulled himself on his feet, dusting off his coat. He had his next two victims in front of his eyes. He was about to explode of excitement. But instead, he composed himself and kept on his frightened look.

"Sorry, we thought you might be Alpha." The black man replied, smiling. "No hard feelings."

"What..?" Dan said, wiping the tear off his cheek. "Why on Earth did you think that?"

"We've done that to like 10 people so far, don't feel special." The other said with a bored voice. "You looked suspicious, that's all."

"Oh, so you two are just tackling random people in alleyways because you  _think_ they could be a mass murder, that's great!" Dan exclaimed sarcastically. "Who even are you two?"

"I'm Guy. This is Howie."

Dan glanced at the victim he had lost because of Phil. Guy. The corner of his mouth twitched. This was going to be delightful.

Howie reached his arm to shake Dan's hand while Guy didn't bother at all.

"We're doing this only to protect ourselves." He continued, staring directly in Dan's eyes.

"Why?"

"Do you want to die, pretty boy?" Guy whispered through gritted teeth.

"I'm not planning on it, no..." Dan replied.

"We know we're both on the pattern. We're just being careful."

"So am I..." Dan confessed. "But how can you be sure it's  _you_  that's going to die?"

"Precautions." Guy whispered as he looked away. "And who are  _you_  anyway, huh? Who are you to judge us like that!?"

"Oh, I'm sorry if I have a few questions, not that I was tackled in a dark alleyway by two strangers looking for a mass murderer just a minute ago or anything!" Dan shouted.

"Look, mate, we're just trying to save our skins!" Guy screamed, walking closer to Dan. "If you have a better idea than that, I'd like to hear it!"

"I do have a better idea, actually!" Dan said with a tone of challenge. "How about you stop assaulting innocent pedestrians? Because, I don't know if you realized, but someone you assaulted could actually believe that  _you_ are Alpha and could report you to the police. Just a thought."

"Well shit." Howie grunted, turning to Guy. "Didn't think of that one."

Guy seemed defeated.

"Alright." He said, nodding his head. "You win, pretty boy. You're right."

He paused for a second to scratch his chin. Dan shivered with anticipation.

"You did say you were in the pattern, right?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Dan nodded.

"What's your name, then?"

Dan grinned lightly.

"My name is Ian." Dan lied.

Both of the men's eyes lit up.

"You're next on the pattern..." They murmured in unison.

Howie and Guy looked at each other longingly, like they were debating on what to do without using words. Finally, they both shook their heads and turned back to Dan.

"You know, you're free to walk away." Howie spoke. "We won't do anything to stop you. But, considering you're right behind us in that psycho's pattern, we'd like to offer you our support."

Dan frowned.

"Support?" He repeated.

"Yes." Guy continued. "Howie and I have a place where you can come if you don't feel safe."

"A place? Like a secret hideout?" Dan asked, confused.

They nodded. Dan panicked slightly.

"Are there a lot of people in that hideout?" Dan pondered, trying to cover his worry.

"Not yet." Howie said. "Only us two. But we'd be glad to accept you."

Dan inwardly sighed of relief.

"Well, sure, why not!" Dan exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's good to know I have a place where I can feel safe. So where is it?"

"It's in an abandoned building, not far from here." Guy announced.

Dan raised his eyebrows.  _"Wow, so safe."_  He thought.

"Alright. I'm behind." Dan beamed.

Guy and Howie smiled and turned their backs. Dan followed them, trying to contain his excitement inside.

~

"Here."

Howie pointed to a door with paint peeling off. The façade was dilapidated and bricks had fallen off. Even the surrounding was pitiful. The numerous buildings around were occupied but not necessarily good looking. Dan even noticed old and rusty bulldozer pieces lying around the place. Guy twisted the rusted doorknob and invited Dan in.

Inside, planks and white dirty blankets covered the floor. A few walls had been built to create rooms, but there wasn't enough for any of the rooms to have four walls. The second floor was crumbling down but the ceiling was intact. Tools and toolboxes were lying around, like builders had simply given up on building the place and left. The walls weren't even painted.

He stepped inside, admiring the desolated place.

"It's, uh, not very welcoming..." Guy admitted. "But it does the job. Most people don't even know this place exists, it's hidden behind other buildings. Alpha would never think of finding us here."

Dan retained himself from snickering.

"Plus, there's loads of tools!" Howie exclaimed. "So if he _does_  find us, we'll be able to defend ourselves!"

"That's good." Dan replied.

Howie and Guy entered after him, closing the door behind them to stop more cold from getting in. Guy pulled a torch from his waistband and turned it on since none of the street lights and moonlight came in except from the holes in the walls.

"We brought blankets and food supplies a few days ago." He said. "They're on the second floor. The only way to get there is to climb up those debris."

He pointed a humongous pile of planks and bricks and dirt that was crumbling from the second floor. It formed some kind of slope where you could walk up to get on the part of the second floor that wasn't destroyed.

"I'll go get them." Howie told, walking up to the debris slope. "Guy and I are sleeping here tonight."

"Why?" Dan asked, surprised.

Were those two actually crazy enough to sleep in a dump like this only for "precautions"?

"Gut feeling." Guy replied, looking a bit distant.

Dan rolled his eyes inwardly.

"Give me the torch, Guy." Howie ordered.

"Why?" He exclaimed.

"Because we can't see shit upstairs, are you kidding?" Howie retorted. "Come on, you have the moonlight coming through that hole!"

Reluctantly, Guy handed the torch to Howie. He then disappeared up the slope.

"Are you scared of the dark?" Dan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up." Guy crossed his arms and looked away.

Dan snorted.

"What?" He snapped, staring at Dan angrily.

"I don't know." He replied, giggling still. He crouched and put his backpack on the floor. "You give yourself this badass 'I'm-not-scared-of-anything-and-I-rule-everyone' kind of attitude, yet you're scared of the dark."

"Well, everyone has their fears." He replied harshly. "Don't you have one?"

"Yeah." Dan said casually, opening his bag and fetching Phil's bike gloves. "Like everyone."

"What's your fear, then?" Guy wondered, softening lightly.

Dan grinned. He slid his fingers in the gloves slowly.

"I'm scared people will run away from me."

"Run away? How? As in romantically?"

Dan's smile grew bigger. He zipped his bag and threw it over his shoulders. He stood back up slowly.

"That too, I guess." He whispered, his eyes twinkling brightly.

"What do you mean 'that too'?"

"People usually find me intimidating."

"Oh, why, because you're tall?" Guy laughed. "Well, I don't. Howie is quite tall himself and he's like a puppy. Talking about him, what's taking so long? I should go check it out, you're coming?"

Dan nodded. Guy turned on his heels and walked toward the debris slope. Excitement burst inside of Dan's chest.

He slid his hand in his jeans pocket and retrieved his penknife. He switched the blade and tiptoed quietly up to Guy. In one move, he stuck his hand on Guy's mouth strongly and held his blade up to his neck. He pushed Guy's shoulders back against his chest with his elbows so he had a better grip on him.

"If you scream, I slit your throat in a matter of picoseconds." Dan whispered in his ear.

He felt Guy breathe heavily against his hand. Dan sneered.

"Do you know how long I've waited to kill you, Guy?" Dan hissed.

Guy wiggled to escape Dan's arms. He simply scoffed.

"Three days." Dan continued, tightening his grip. "Three excruciatingly long days. But now that I've found you again..."

Guy whined, struggling. Dan's blade touched his neck.

"You and your friend must be complete twats to be convinced so easily that I wasn't Alpha and bring me exactly where no one will be able to see or hear us? Oh, and to think you actually believed my name was Ian. Please. That's an old trick."

Dan smiled from ear to ear.

"This is going to be so fun!" He murmured enthusiastically. "Killing you is almost going to be...  _orgasmic._ "

Guy struggled harder. Dan pushed the blade harder on his neck, just enough so it wouldn't cut him yet.

"Don't try to escape, Guy, you're going to be a part of my pattern. Isn't that exciting?"

Guy yelled at the top of his lungs. His muffled scream echoed throughout the whole empty building.

"Guy? Ian?" Dan heard Howie's voice from upstairs. He heard cans and other stuff hit the ground.

"I told you not to scream,  _pretty boy._ " Dan rebuked.

Guy yelled again. Dan rolled his eyes and slashed his throat. He let his body fall to the ground as he heard Howie running on the second floor.

"Slashing throats is getting old..." Dan sighed, looking down at Guy's gaping wound. "I could've killed you in so many original ways..."

He sighed again before grabbing the first abandoned tool he found on the ground and running to hide in a dark corner. It happened to be a crowbar.

He saw the light of Howie's torch coming. Dan had hidden behind the wall that was facing the debris slope.

"Guys..." He called again, his voice shaking. "What's happening...? Is this a joke, because it's not fu-"

Howie's torch lit Guy's agonising and blood covered body and he stopped talking immediately.

"Guy..." He couldn't articulate anything else.

With stealth, Dan erupted from his dark corner, holding his crowbar high above his head.

"Howie!" Dan cooed.

And as he turned around, Dan swung his crowbar and hit the top of Howie's head with the end of the bar. His body froze and the torch hit the ground in a loud noise.

Dan pulled on the crowbar to force it out of Howie's skull. He heard a sucking and a cracking noise as it popped out violently, his body collapsing on the floor and blood flowing in his dead eyes.

Dan threw the crowbar aside and looked down at the two corpses in front of him. He smiled widely.

"Now that's an original way to kill someone!" He exclaimed gleefully.

His small laugh died out.

"Now, I reserved you two the best art you will ever see."

Dan leered at a saw hand that lied amongst other tools in the corner of the room. 

~

The silence of the night was broken by Dan's cheerful whistling. He tossed what he was holding up and down playfully like a ball.

He zigzagged through the buildings that led to Guy and Howie's hideout and finally reached the street.

Making sure no one was around, Dan threw Guy's severed foot on the pavement, and walked away.


	19. Chapter 19

"Where the hell were you?!"

Dan closed the door behind him and turned to look at a rather angry Phil.

"Hey." Dan simply replied.

Phil opened his eyes widely. He crossed his arms, gawking at Dan.

"Hey?" He repeated, astonished.

"That's what I said..." Dan said, puzzled.

"Oh, okay, yeah." Phil exclaimed.

He nodded his head vigorously, trying to contain his anger.

"So you leave for three hours when you just put cakes in the oven without even telling me you're going out when you promised me to make dinner and watch a movie with me and when we literally just spent the whole day outside and make me extremely worried about you and you come back later and tell me 'hey'?"

"Y-yeah, I guess." Dan spluttered.

Phil's hands balled up. He lifted his fists up then slowly lowered them as he exhaled deeply.

"Did I do something bad..?" Dan asked.

"Oh, I don't know!" Phil jeered.

"What, am I not allowed to leave my own apartment without your permission now?" Dan snapped.

"You know, Dan, I'm getting really tired of your shit." Phil scolded. "Why do you bother making promises if you never keep them? Seriously, do you think I'm an idiot or something? Stop using me as some fucking anaesthetic!"

"Phil, I'm..."

"It's my birthday, for fuck's sake!" Phil cut. "Can we have a good time without you being a narcissistic asshole?! Seriously, what's so important at this time for you to have to leave so late?!"

"Phil, I told you I wasn't ready to talk about it..."

"I don't give a shit!" Phil exploded. "I don't give a bloody shit! You could've at least told me you were leaving so I wouldn't have worried so much and wouldn't have waited for you to eat! Where the fuck do you go? What do you do?!"

"I'm not telling you." Dan murmured.

"Fuck off, Dan!" Phil shouted. "Oh my, God! You know what, sometimes I even wonder if you being depressed is not just an act so I blame everything you do on it!"

"Oh, I thought you had established that I was depressed for sure!" Dan retorted. "The self-harm, the drugs, the one-night stands, wasn't that your very own diagnosis?"

"Yeah, well, maybe that's just you being a fucking dick!" Phil spat.

"Phil, stop swearing, it doesn't suit you." Dan pointed out.

"I'm going to say whatever the fuck I want!" Phil raged. "And you know what, for the amount of times you abused of my friendship and kindness, I'm going to harass you until you spit it out."

"Phil, I just need my time alone, you know that!" Dan chided. "And besides, you don't have the right to harass me when we both established it was fine I didn't tell you what I do!"

"You don't have the right to fuck me to stop me from asking questions but you still did it."

Dan's body reacted before his mind could. With two strong hands, he pushed Phil violently against the wall, anger and disgust dwelling his face. Phil's back rammed into the wall dangerously, cutting his breath for a second. His mouth was hanging open, shocked by Dan's violence and strength. A vein was pumping on his temple, adrenaline rushing through his body. His hands balled up as he breathed heavily, staring at Phil with anger boiling up in his stomach.

But suddenly, Dan stopped, astounded. He glanced down at his fists, loosening them delicately. He then looked at Phil helplessly. His deep blue eyes were piercing in his like poisoned darts, paralyzing every inch of his body, making the blood streaming in his veins curdle and his breath cut systematically. His skin crawled under the realization of what he had just done.

Dan stepped back slowly, incredulous. His back hit against the wall and he let himself slide down, the world around him fading away. He felt his eyes prick with tears. He tried grabbing something to pull himself up, but his vision was blurry and his ears kept buzzing. His heart was pounding and he clutched it desperately, trying to catch his heavy breath. He felt like he was being swallowed by darkness.

He felt hands touch him hurriedly and an indistinct voice resounded to his ears. He looked up in panic and saw Phil's clouded face yelling words at him through the blackness.

"Phil, I-I'm so sorry..." He managed to mumble, grasping at his shirt weakly. "S-so s-s-sorry..."

"Dan... Dan! DAN!" Phil's voice suddenly filled his ears. "DAN! Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here, Dan, snap out of it!"

"Phil!" Dan exclaimed, grabbing his collar.

Tears multiplied in his eyes and a few slid down his cheeks.

"Phil, I'm so sorry!" He cried, shoving his face in Phil's chest. "I'm a mess, I'm a fucking mess, what the fuck is wrong with me..."

"No, no, no, no, Dan!" Phil shushed, hugging him. "Don't say that, I shouldn't have told you that in the first place!"

He nibbled his lip anxiously.

"I clearly triggered something inside of you and I know you're having a hard time right now... Oh God, I shouldn't have pushed you to talk... I should be the one apologising..."

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil's neck and hugged tightly, trying to stop his sobbing.

Phil held Dan's shaking and fragile body. He didn't know what to do, and he felt like such an idiot for pressuring him into talking! Sure, he wanted answers and Dan acted like an asshole most of the time, but he couldn't treat him on the assumption that his depression might be fake! What if it wasn't? What if he was convinced Dan was faking his condition and he stayed completely blind to his misery until the day he would find him dead!? Dan's violence came from deep within him, it was a violence waiting to erupt, a violence caused by all the built up emotions locked inside...  _"It was meant to happen..."_  Phil thought.

"Look, Dan, I'm sorry, it's not that important anyway, we can still order pizza and watch a movie, I was just worried for you..."

"I'm sorry for ruining your birthday, I'm just a fuck up..." Dan whined, dropping his chin on Phil's shoulder. "I'm such a terrible friend..."

"Ah, come on now, it's fine!" Phil reassured. "You have your moments."

"I even ruined your cupcakes..." Dan mentioned, wiping a tear off his cheek.

"Ah!" Phil exclaimed, patting Dan's back. "You'll be glad to hear I managed to save them."

Dan laughed in between two sniffles.

"Now, let's forget about this!" Phil continued, taking Dan out of his arms. "There's still 3 hours left to my birthday, let's make the best out of it!"

He smiled and stood up. He climbed up the stairs and disappeared into the flat. Dan stood up in turn, staring at where Phil had just left from with glistening eyes. He wiped the remaining salty tears off his eyes and raised his chin proudly. He smiled fiendishly.

"Seems like fucking you isn't the only way to shut you up." Dan whispered to himself.

Trying to suppress the fact that the guilt he had a minute ago when he was whimpering in Phil's arms was heartfelt, he sneered unconvincingly then climbed the stairs to join him inside.

~

The pizza had come and Dan and Phil had enjoyed it in front of a movie without any more arguments. They even ate a few of Dan's cupcakes who turned out to taste surprisingly good. The movie ended around 11:30 to Phil's delight since his eyelids were closing by themselves due to fatigue.

He rose from the sofa, yawned deeply and dragged his feet to the door.

"I'm about to pass out." He said, yawning once more. "Goodnight, thanks for such a nice birthday!"

"Wait!" Dan said, standing up.

Phil stopped and turned to Dan. He walked up to Phil slowly, and he felt his stomach flip for some reason. Dan approached delicately, staring deeply into Phil's eyes. Phil was startled, he wasn't sure of Dan's intentions.

Dan stopped when his face was only a few centimeters away from Phil's. He could feel his hot breath against his neck and his skin crawled. The room around him seemed to disappear and all he could see was Dan's impressive and intimidating figure in front of him.

His lips lightly parted, he couldn't tear his eyes off of him. There was something about Dan, something hypnotizing. The way he started down at him with glistening eyes, a smirk, almost unnoticeable but betrayed by a dimple popping on his cheek... Phil felt like he was under a spell.

Dan's hand lifted up to his face delicately and pushed his fringe out of his eye gently. Phil's breath cut.

"Happy birthday..." Dan whispered, caressing Phil's cheek with his fingers.

Phil felt himself blush deeply.

"I hope you had a nice day despite... me." He continued, his hand working its way down his neck.

"You didn't do anything bad-" Phil began, but Dan's thumb placed itself on his lips, making him shush instantly.

"Don't say anything..." Dan murmured tenderly.

His thumb slid down, gently pulling Phil's bottom lip with it. Dan's face had gotten even closer to Phil's now.

Both of his hands dropped off Phil's face and joined each other behind his own back. Phil saw Dan's eyes divert to his lips for a second then locked with his gaze again. Their eyes were full of stars, and Phil hadn't realized he was still holding his breath.

"Can I..?" Dan asked softly.

Phil nodded shyly. He felt his cheeks burn brighter when he saw Dan leaning in closer.

He closed his eyes, expecting to feel Dan's lips on his mouth anytime now. Dan's nose pressed against his. Phil's heart pounded hard against his ribcage, he felt like the whole city could hear every beat.

But instead of feeling Dan's soft and warm lips on his own, he felt them peck his right cheek. He opened his eyes as Dan pulled away, grinning.

Phil smirked shyly and grabbed the doorknob. He left the living room and he guessed his face was probably as red as a tomato. It's only when he reached his room and collapsed on his bed that he finally started breathing again.

~

Quest pushed the heavy door of the morgue. He walked towards the examination table where Vincent Talley leaned over a body. He saw Jesus Harrigan in the laboratory next door.

"Oh, agent Kadner..." Vincent said when he noticed Quest was in the room. "I didn't expect you here this morning..."

"I came for Agana Baldwin's autopsy report." He announced. Quest noticed the bags under his eyes.

"Oh..." Vincent said, embarrassed. "Uh, see, I would love to give it to you, but, um, the thing is..."

Quest diverted his eyes to look at the body on the examination table. It was Agana Baldwin. He raised an eyebrow at Vincent, indicating him to keep talking.

"Look, Jesus and I got called urgently on Saturday..." Vincent explained sheepishly. "They had found a body on the street and they needed the autopsy as soon as possible since there was eye witnesses and the case would be closed faster..."

"You had all day Friday when we found her." Quest pointed out.

"Look, if you think an autopsy is that easy you're entirely mistaken!" Vincent retorted. "Besides, Alpha's case isn't my only case unlike you! I had reports to fill."

Quest sighed.

"Could you not give me that look, please?" Vincent asked politely. "I mean, I tried, okay, I finished the guy's report then started Agana Baldwin's autopsy straight away. I'm almost done. I've already sampled what I needed and got Jesus to examine them and got her brain ready for closer examination. Then I'll fill her report. What time is it by the way?"

"5:30 am." Quest replied, looking at his watch.

"Wow, you're here early." Vincent pointed out.

Quest brushed off the comment.

"Alright, do you have anything you can give me in the meanwhile?"

Vincent scratched the back of his head.

"Uh, not much, but yeah. Her body was in the third stage of decay. Her stab wounds have the same length as Bradley Cox's stab wounds, so I'm pretty sure it has been done with the same penknife. I noticed finger bruises on her neck, the same as Emily Fontaine, so I guess he choked her before or during the stabbing. Unfortunately, her trip in the sewer washed away all potential fingerprints. She was as clear as day."

"Okay, thanks." Quest thanked.

"Talk to Jesus for the results of the samples I gave him."

He nodded and walked towards the laboratory. When he pushed the door, Jesus lifted his head from a microscope and smiled weakly. He too had enormous bags under his eyes.

"You talked to Vincent?" Jesus asked as he returned his eyes to the lens.

"Yeah, the report is not ready yet." Quest affirmed.

"Yeah, well, c'est la vie. We're almost done anyway."

Quest rolled his eyes.

"Do you have the results for the samples?" Quest asked.

"Oh, Questy can't wait for the report?" Jesus retracted from the lens and grimaced wryly, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm just trying to make myself useful." Quest admitted, remembering how awfully boring his day had been on Saturday.

"Well, her blood wasn't dissolved like Favor Gallagher, it was perfectly fine, she wasn't raped, and so that means no DNA of our murderer whatsoever. She didn't have any diseases or anything abnormal."

They both sighed.

"I feel like going on a quest to find God would be easier than find Alpha."

He giggled at his double pun.

"Alright." Quest said, ignoring Jesus' joke. "Thanks. Call me as soon as you have the report."

"Will do!" Jesus exclaimed before returning to his microscope.

~

"You do realize there are only a few days left until Playlist Live?"

Dan frowned.

"What, already?"

Phil nodded and went back to his worksheet. He continued talking about another topic but Dan didn't listen. He stared into the emptiness. He had only five days left before flying to America. That gave him 5 days to make the best out of his pattern.

He knew the investigation was currently leading nowhere. He kept Quest close and supervised the investigation. He knew nothing was happening. If there was something in their lead, Dan and Phil would hear much more about it on TV.

If he wanted to be able to finish his pattern before Quest got to him, he had to make the case even more complicated. Maybe going to America wouldn't really stop him, actually.

And for a moment, Dan thought about the future. What would happen after he was done? He would let Quest and the others get to him and his work would be recognized. He would show the world that life isn't about being restricted, but it's about living.

He would go to jail and accept his faith. He would watch the world burn, and wait for it to be changed slowly, but surely. He would've contributed to the world, and that was where his duty would end. Accomplished and happy.

But even though this future looked rosy and fulfilling, Dan couldn't help but feel his stomach tighten when he thought about his entourage.

What would happen to Phil? He would finally realize why Dan had been acting so different in the past months. He would see his purpose.

But he would also have to find another flat. He would have to live without Dan. He would have to rebuild an entire life without Dan to his side. Would he ever trust anyone else?   

And what about his family? His friends? His viewers? They would realize who Dan truly was. They would give up on him, they would have to find someone else to entertain them, and they would have to replace him. The pain he would leave in their chests, the pain of him leaving, the pain of him being what they didn't think he was... the pain of him being a... psycho.

_"No, they will adore you! They will support you and they will help you change the world! Your work will not go unrecognized!"_

But Dan would be alone, cut from the world, every single soul despising him...

_"You're the start of a revolution! People will thank you, they'll kneel in front of you, and they'll worship you!"_

But Phil would hate him, Phil would be heartbroken and disgusted, what if Phil didn't like what he was doing? What if Phil hated him?! He didn't want Phil to hate him!

_"Phil doesn't appreciate your work, Phil is poison! Don't let his soft manners get to you, he's toxic! He only wants to expose you as garbage, he doesn't understand the revolution that's coming!"_

But Phil was... Phil was his friend... Phil was all he had...

_"Phil is poison! Toxic!"_

He couldn't... Phil was all he had...

_"Poison! Toxic!"_

Phil...

"Dan?"

Dan jerked violently, resurfacing from his deep thoughts.

"Are you okay..?" Phil asked, frowning.

"Uh..." Dan was panting. "Yeah..."

"Daydream?" Phil wondered casually. "You were long gone back then."

"Uh, no, actually." Dan said truthfully for the first time. "I was just lost in thoughts."

Phil nodded. He looked back down at his sheet.

"So, is it a yes or a no?"

"Huh?"

"You didn't listen to a word of what I just said, did you?" Phil reproached.

"No, sorry..." Dan simply apologised.

"It's okay. I was just wondering if it was okay for the mega Jenga game for Dan vs Phil."

"Oh, yeah." Dan approved.

"Great. For product placement purposes, we'll simply call it 'tension tower.'"

"Good."

Phil looked longingly at Dan, put his sheet aside and crossed his arms on the table.

"Look, Dan, I don't want to be too invasive, but, seriously, are you okay..?" Phil asked.

"Yeah..." Dan mumbled, still looking distant. "Why wouldn't I be..?"

"I don't know, you look..." Phil paused, trying to figure out which emotion he seemed to be feeling. "Tense... and... nervous, maybe?"

"I'm..." Dan sighed. "I'm good."

That was a lie. He didn't feel good. His thoughts had successfully managed to scare him and Phil saw right through it.

"Okay." Phil nodded. He grabbed his notepad and ripped another page from it. He placed it in front of him and clicked his pen. "Let's play a game."

"What?"

"We'll play a game." Phil repeated. "As much as I want to not get invested in your life after your numerous requests, as your friend, I can't just sit there and watch you be miserable."

Dan simply listened.

"So we're going to play a game. A fair game."

"Okay..." Dan said. "And what's the game?"

"I'm going to ask you a question, and you have to answer truthfully." Phil explained. "And because it's a fair game, you're going to ask me anything you like, and I will have to answer it truthfully as well."

Dan looked at Phil with suspicious eyes.

"Don't worry, I know what not to talk about." Phil reassured.

"That's not really a game." Dan pointed out. "I'd call it more like 'mutual interrogation'."

"Shut up, it'd make a perfect tag on YouTube." Phil giggled. "Let's just call it the 'Get to know your friend' game."

Dan rolled his eyes.

Phil just wanted answers to his questions. He had some theories and just wanted to check some off his lists. He would ask generic questions that would help him sort things out in his head. Nothing more.

"Wait, what's the piece of paper for?" Dan wondered.

"To keep up the score."

"The score?" Dan repeated. "What are you even going to give points for?"

"Let's just play." Phil said.

Dan shrugged.

"Okay, I'll start." Phil announced. "So, Dan, are your daydreams frequent?"

Dan opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it. There was nothing harmful in that question. He simply had to lead Phil on a different road.

"Not really..." Dan lied.

Phil nodded and drew a line on the paper. Dan frowned.

"Why'd you give me a point?" He pondered.

Phil ignored him. "Your turn."

Dan sighed.

"Uh..." He searched for something to ask him. "Do you feel like an old raisin now that you're 28?"

"At times." Phil smirked. "How often do you have sex in a week, Dan?"

Dan choked. He looked at Phil with wide eyes.

"That's a... rude question." Dan stammered.

"Just answer. I've known you for like 6 years, you don't have to be embarrassed."

Dan looked at Phil in disbelief but finally gave in.

"Not very often..." Dan replied.

Phil didn't draw a line on the paper. He moved his head to indicate him to ask a question.

"If you're going to go down that lane, I'm jumping right in with you." Dan said defiantly. "Do you masturbate a lot?"

"Yes." Phil replied casually.

Dan grinned. That was easy.

"When you do have sex, what do you think about?" Phil went on.

Dan swallowed hard.

"Uh... things that turn me on?"

"That doesn't really answer the question..." Phil commented.

Dan rolled his eyes. "I don't know, the person I'm with, the touch of their skin, the scent of their hair..." He lied.

Phil smiled weakly and drew another line.

"What do  _you_ think about?" Dan asked in turn.

Phil paused to come up with the right words.

"When I have sex I like to think about the person looking at me, the person touching my face and holding me tight. I like to think about how I can feel protected in someone's arms, how they can love me like I was the only person in the world. I like to think that, in that moment, it's only the both of us that exist, and that nothing else matters."

Dan gulped. He felt his heart pinch when he remembered his nights of love with Phil. He compared Phil's thoughts to his own. Phil thought about Dan caring for him, loving him. And Dan thought about killing people. He used Phil to get off. He felt tears making their way up to his eyes but automatically cut those thoughts off his mind.

"Do you think about death a lot?" Phil asked as if his reply hadn't affected Dan in any way.

"About the inevitability of death, yes quite a lot, but I don't really get your question..."

"That answer is fine." Phil assured as he drew another line on the paper.

"Is this game going to lead anywhere?" Dan asked impatiently.

"Maybe." Phil winked. "My turn. Have you always bottled up your emotions and let them burst at any moment in your life or did this start recently?"

"Always." Dan lied confidently.

Phil drew another line. Dan pursed his lips. How was he even keeping up points?! Dan tried to breathe. Phil was taking this opportunity to squeeze what he wanted of out Dan, so why wouldn't he take advantage of this to ask Phil embarrassing questions?

"Have you ever sent nudes to someone and have them laugh at you?" Dan smiled arrogantly.

"Once..." Phil whispered. "Maybe twice..."

Dan snorted. Phil looked at him with death in his eyes. Dan cleared his throat and held in his laughter.

"I mean... not funny." Dan told himself off, still giggling.

Phil composed himself.

"How many times did you daydream about my death?" He suddenly wondered, tilting his head.

Dan's laughter died immediately.

"Only once..." Dan lied. "That time I talked about it on the radio show, it was the only time..."

Phil drew a line over the four he had done already.

Dan felt something stir in his stomach. He didn't like where this was going. He didn't feel like he was in control and his anxiety was coming back. With a shaky voice, he stopped the game.

"Uh, look, Phil, where is this even going? What even is this?" He pointed to the sheet with the lines. "Are we done with this game yet?"

"I guess that's enough." Phil agreed. He clicked his pen. "Thanks, your answers helped me greatly."

Dan stared at Phil in confusion.

"How is knowing what I think of in bed and the amount of times I have sex in a week going to help you help me?" He exclaimed, bewildered.

"You don't want me getting directly in your head, well, I'm slithering around." Phil admitted.

"I still don't get it."

"You not wanting to tell me what you do is completely fine, Dan, but it doesn't stop me from suspecting a few things. Those questions are simply helping my theories." Phil explained.

"Oh."

Dan shrugged. He had practically lied all the way through, Phil would never know anything.

"Well, I don't care. Think whatever the hell you want, as long as you don't force me."

"Of course." Phil smiled. "And I'm sorry for ever doing so. You know I only want the best for you, right?"

Dan nodded. "Yeah, I know." He smiled in turn.

He diverted his eyes to the sheet with lines.

"You never told me what those were."

"Oh." Phil said. "There's a line for every time you lied straight to my face."

"What-" Dan exclaimed, outraged.

"When you're nervous, your acting skills tend to... drop." Phil confessed, grinning.

He stood up, grabbing his worksheet.

"Well, hope you're ready for that tension tower later, I'm totally going to beat your arse!"

And he exited the room, leaving an astonished Dan behind. That's what he had gotten for underestimating Phil.

~

"Thanks for coming on such a short notice..."

It was 8 am and the team had been reunited once again. Vincent and Jesus had managed to fill Agana Baldwin's autopsy results in the hours following Quest's visit.

"Jesus and I have finally gathered all the information from Agana Baldwin's autopsy." Vincent rubbed his eyes firmly. He looked like he was about to pass out.

Tucker Essex, who had finally managed to make it back to an Alpha case meeting, threw a brown envelope on the table. Dallas picked it up, confused, and opened it.

"They're the crime scene photography's." He spat as a response to Dallas' confusion. "You couldn't make it so we got someone else to do it."

"Nice to see you back too, Essex." Dallas said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, could we do this quickly, please?" Jesus exclaimed. "We are literally about to pass out."

"We're listening." Zarah said.

Jesus nodded.

"So, like we told Quest earlier, her body was in the third stage of decay. Her stab wounds have the same length as Bradley Cox's stab wounds, there are finger bruises on her neck, the same as Emily Fontaine. He choked her."

"Her blood wasn't dissolved like Favor Gallagher, no sign of sexual assault, no diseases or anything abnormal."

"So... you called us to tell us there's nothing we can work with?" Zarah concluded.

"Yes." Jesus replied. "Better than nothing."

She rolled her eyes.

"No, we figured Quest might have a theory... or some kind of explanation." Vincent explained. "He always does."

Everyone turned their heads to Quest, expecting something out of him. Quest rubbed his forehead vigorously. He scratched the back of his head before meeting Wade's gaze.

"So...?" Tucker said arrogantly. "Got anything, smartass?"

Quest looked at Vincent and Jesus' tired faces. He looked back at Wade helplessly.

Quest shook his head shamefully.

"W-what?" Vincent stammered. "You're saying you don't have anything...?"

"I'm sorry, Vincent, it's just there's so little evidence..." Quest replied. "I wish I could come up to you and have a list of 4 suspects, but it's not how it works. We've got no DNA and the only actual suspect we've got has no face and could be anywhere..."

"That's impossible! You could at least have theory!" Vincent exclaimed. "You always have something! You discovered Alpha's pattern out of nothing, you found out by yourself that Agana Baldwin was his first victim, you found a decent suspect even though Allaway was pressuring you into giving it up... how can you not have anything?!"

"I really tried..." Quest replied calmly. "There's just nothing to work with..."

"That's what we get for calling out the MI5. They back out at the first impasse." Tucker said angrily. "Wuss."

Wade stood up swiftly and hit his fists on the table.

"I forbid you to talk about one of my best agents like that!" He exclaimed furiously. "Without Quest and I, Alpha would've had the time to get to the 16th letter of the alphabet even before your team cracked his pattern! We gave you everything we could give! We simply can't work with thin air! We need evidence, we need DNA, we need leads, witnesses... we've got nothing of that! So say whatever the hell you want, but blame yourself too, because we're all in the same boat!"

The room fell silent. Jesus and Vincent looked down, gutted. Wade sat back down, sending death stares to Tucker whose features had twisted with hatred.

"I'm very sorry, guys..." Quest apologised to the forensics. "I know you worked late, but..."

"Don't apologise..." Jesus whispered. "It's not your fault..."

"As much as I don't want to say this, I guess we'll have to wait for Alpha to make another victim..." Zarah announced.

Tucker Essex was ready to protest, but stopped himself. Even  _he_  knew they had no other choice. At the same time, his phone rang in his pocket. He picked it up.

"I guess you guys should go get some rest." Wade said to Vincent and Jesus. "You've done some great work."

"You're not going anywhere." Tucker exclaimed as he hung up and slid his phone back in his pocket.

"Why?" Dallas asked. "They're clearly worn out!"

"Agent Mohsin just called. She found a severed foot in the street." He announced. "Then she and her team found two severed heads with numbers on their cheeks."

"I'll get us two huge cups of coffee, alright?" Jesus told Vincent.

~

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Dallas brought a hand to his mouth and tried to stop himself from gagging.

"Well, that sure is... original." Zarah commented, pinching her nose to stop smelling the intolerable stench of blood.

Quest looked around him. It was a vast, old, abandoned and creepy building. Wall debris and dust covered the floors, as well as old, rusty tools. In front of them, two bodiless heads stood in the dirt. Their eyes were wide open, lifeless, sinister. Their cheeks were engraved with numbers, Alpha's well known mark, and besides the heads lied a rusty and bloody handsaw, as well as a blood covered crowbar, two pairs of shoes with socks neatly tucked inside and two pairs of jeans and two shirts that had also been neatly folded.

In front of the two heads, something had been written in the dirt.

"'They're playing hide and seek' with a smiley face." Vincent read out. "That's a nice way to put it."

The letter G of the word 'playing' had been circled as well as the H of 'hide'.

"Why are G and H circled?" Dallas questioned, looking at Quest.

"The last person to die in Alpha's pattern was Favor Gallagher, the letter F." He said calmly. "Thus, they have to be G and H."

Vincent and Jesus, who had drank the entirety of their large cups of black coffee and felt much more awake, crouched in front of the two heads to examine them closer. Jesus lifted up two fingers and closed both pair of eyes.

"That was unsettling." He admitted to Vincent quietly who simply agreed with a nod.

"So... um... this one, besides the fact his head has been severed, it looks like his throat was slit." Vincent said. "See," he pointed to a laceration that was above the end of the neck, "right on the jugular. He probably died right before that happened. Pretty straight line, could've been done in one slash, but it doesn't look like any tools in here could've done such a perfect line. I suggest it was probably that penknife of his again."

"Well, mine looks like his skull was cracked open." Jesus continued, examining the other head. "I can easily say the crowbar did this. I can see a little bit of brain!"

Dallas gagged. Zarah patted his back compassionately before he held his camera up and snapped pictures.

"Sorry..." Dallas apologized. "I'm usually very insensitive." He snapped more pictures. "I do a lot of crime scenes but it's my first time with two severed heads and probably a lot more individual body parts."

Quest brushed his comment off. Finally, they would have more material to work with. He hoped something would come out of it, just a tiny little detail that would give away Alpha's identity so they could stop the killing. They were already at 8 murders, the half of his pattern, this couldn't go on. As much as Quest tried to stay calm and show that he was in control, he couldn't hide to himself that he was starting to panic slightly.

He didn't understand how someone who had never killed before Agana Baldwin could have killed eight people without leaving anything behind them. How could a debutant be so thorough?

"I'll check the pants for IDs." Zarah said.

She put on the rubber gloves and crouched. She checked the pockets but they were empty. She shrugged her shoulders as an answer.

"Essex, you said they found one of their foot in the street?" Quest asked.

Tucker nodded.

"Did they search the place?"

"They preferred we do it."

"'They're playing hide and seek'." Quest repeated.

Zarah sighed.

"Alpha wants us to find all the body parts, doesn't he?" She read Quest's mind.

"It'll lead us to who they are." Quest affirmed. "It has to be in the building. Zarah, seal their clothes and the bloody tools and the rest of us will search. When you're done, join us. God knows how many pieces he made with them."

~

"What are you doing?"

Dan jerked. He zipped his backpack closed and turned to look at Phil.

"Uh, just tidying, why?"

"You? Tidying?" Phil scoffed.

"Cut the banters." Dan replied, adjusting rebel hairs on his head. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Phil said.

Dan sighed. He rubbed his forehead longingly, exhausted.

"Then quit spying on me..." Dan mumbled as he picked up clothes from the floor. "I'm not in the mood for that crap."

Dan's thoughts from earlier hadn't stopped pounding his head. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and couldn't help but feel helpless towards the emotions it provided him. He literally felt like shit. He didn't want to deal with Phil right now. He needed to be alone. He had to do the radio show with him later, so he wanted to prepare himself mentally.

Phil tilted his head to the side and pouted. He had learnt to be able to tell when Dan lied, or when he wasn't thinking what he was saying, and this time, he was saying the truth. He looked awful, too.

"I'm sorry." Phil said. "Are you okay?"

"Sure." Dan lied. He just wanted Phil to shut up and go away.

"I can tell when you're feeling lower than usual." Phil affirmed, still pouting. "Did... uh, did I do anything?"

Dan stopped gathering clothes and looked at Phil longingly. He swallowed hard, not knowing what to answer.

He wanted to push Phil, tell him to shut up, to go away, to leave him alone, to stop digging so fucking much, to act like he used to act and not try and get inside his head.

But at the same time, he wanted to hug him, to feel his heart beat against his, to kiss his nose, to tell him he was fine, tell him he hadn't done anything...

"I..." Dan couldn't articulate anything else.

He walked up to Phil and punched him. Phil recoiled, his hands flying to his face. Dan grabbed his lamp on his bedside table and held the base up above his head. An indescribable violence seized him, and he crashed the lamp on Phil's face with a brutal strength. Blood splattered on his face as Phil's face became almost unrecognizable, but Dan didn't care. He needed the demons to get out or he felt like he would explode.

"Sixteen..." He said through gritted teeth.

Phil's mouth was hanging open slightly. Dan was looking at him with empty eyes. He didn't move, neither even did his eyes. He was motionless, he almost looked dead. Suddenly, he jerked. Phil frowned. It looked like Dan had finally gotten back to the surface after almost drowning. But Phil had seen this before. He knew it. Dan had just had a daydream.

Dan jerked and blinked. He looked at Phil in his doorframe. His hand clung to his heart. He knew.

The mixed feelings returned and Dan turned away from Phil. He grasped his head with both hands, feelings tears come to his eyes. " _Poison! Toxic!"_

"Dan..." Phil whispered, shambling towards him. "It's okay... We can work through this... Your daydreams can't keep on upsetting you like that..."

"GET OUT!" Dan suddenly yelled, still looking away from Phil.

"Dan, please, it's okay, I just want the best for you..."

"OUT! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Dan repeated, feeling the salty tears slide down his cheeks.

Phil's body tensed up. Without adding a word, he shifted on his heels and left Dan behind.

_"Phil is poison! He's toxic! Phil is a flower... One of the sun's beams..."_

Dan growled loudly, hitting his head with his fists.

"Stop it!" He exclaimed. "Stop it! Enough! Stop it! Control yourself, Dan! Control! CONTROL!"

Phil walked through the hallway, not looking back once. He heard Dan continue speaking to himself, or rather, yelling to himself, and couldn't help the single tear stream down his face.

This time he had no doubt. No matter what Dan had, it was very serious and he needed help.

Dan wiped his tears vigorously and pushed his chest out, trying to prove to his mind he still had some confidence and self-control left after this.

Breathing in and out deeply, he crouched back to his bag and zipped it open. He grabbed the nails by the handful, lifted up his mattress and shoved them under.  He did the same with the hammer he had taken at Guy and Howie's secret hideout, and kept tidying his room like nothing had happened.

~

"Uh, Quest?"

His name resounded throughout the whole empty building.

"What is it, Wiseman?"

"Can... can you come here?"

"Dallas, we have to find the body parts as soon as possible, I don't have time to nurse your weak stomach!"

"No, n-no Quest, you don't understand... you have to come here... right now..."

Quest groaned and followed the sound of Dallas' voice. He heard his flash go off and frowned. When he finally found Dallas, his mouth fell open.

Two armless, legless and headless chests stood in front of them. Dusty, bloody, they lied next to each other in a pile of cans of food and debris.

"Wade!" Quest called out. "We've got two chests here!"

He turned to look at Dallas. His forehead was sweaty and he was as pale as a sheet.

"Awesome, I've got three feet here." Wade announced.

"Two pairs of bottoms!" Jesus exclaimed in turn. "My Christian eyes shouldn't be looking at this."

Quest rolled his eyes but smirked.

"Hey!" Vincent yelled. "I just found two arms! Whoops, they don't belong to the same person... and they also have no hands..."

"I've got the other two, Talley." Tucker Essex growled from another corner of the building.

"Any sign of a wallet?" Quest asked.

"No." They all responded in unison.

He sighed. He patted Dallas' back awkwardly as he leaned on the wall, restraining himself from puking.

"Wait!" He heard Zarah's voice. "Oh..."

He heard planks being moved, debris being tossed away, and, finally, a scream of satisfaction.

"Yes!" Zarah exclaimed. "I've got four hands! And two of them have wallets in them! It's Christmas!"

Quest slapped Dallas back with more strength in triumphal, earning a whimper from him. He quickly and clumsily apologized and they both ran back down to the entrance of the building.

The team had already reunited and gathered around Zarah. She opened the wallets.

"Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin." She read out. She pointed to the white head. "That's Guy," and to the black head, "and that's Howie."

"Great job everyone!" Quest exclaimed. "Dallas, go get the pictures before the paramedics take the bodies away."

He started walking toward the exit.

"Wait!" Vincent exclaimed. "You're already leaving? There's so much more to see!"

"I don't think." Quest replied. "Everything we need is all in display."

"So you have a theory, then?" Jesus teased. "Come out, let the cat out the bag, don't keep it to yourself."

"Look at this place. It's empty, it's old, it's far away from the road... No one would've ever thought about coming here. Yet, they were killed, what, yesterday?"

Quest looked at the two forensics, searching for professional support on his medical assumption. They nodded.

"And here we are, the next day. We're here because they found a severed foot in the street. Alpha is messing with us. Again, he wanted us to find them quickly. And why here, I hear you ask? It must've been some kind of meet up place for those two, or a hideout, or, perhaps, a junkies house, I don't know for sure, but it was their place, and somehow, they let Alpha in. How do you know, I hear you ask again? There were fresh and unopened cans of food upstairs, which suggest they planned on staying here or that they were staying here. It's obviously not Alpha's hideout, because otherwise he would've never done this here. Alpha used that handsaw to make a puzzle out of them and hid them. 'They're playing hide and seek' is just a metaphor. A metaphor for himself. He's good at hiding from us and he knows it. He knows we're struggling to find him. And he's proud of it. I have no idea how they got Alpha to get here, but one thing is sure, they told him their names recklessly and here they are. Now, there is nothing more to see here. If there's more information we can get, we'll know after the analysis and the autopsies. You all do that while I start investigating about those two guys. I can't stay here and do nothing, we've already got too many victim on our hands. We're going to catch him, trust me."

Jesus smiled. Quest never failed to impress him.

"Great work." Wade said.

"Yeah, well..." Quest sighed.

"What is it?" Zarah asked, confused. "How can you be upset after deducing so much? That was amazing!"

"The thing that bugs me is the fact that I asked police officers to patrol near the Underground stations and locations of victims last night. Why was nothing unusual reported? Why did this still happen?"

They shrugged.

"The population needs to be more careful." Quest continued. "Next on the pattern is I. I'm counting on you guys to find something good enough to stop the ninth victim from dying."

"We'll try." Vincent said.

The tall frame of Agent Mohsin suddenly entered the building. She cleared her throat to get everyone's attention.

"The rumor spread." She announced. "Three TV station vans have just arrived and the crowd keeps growing. They're going to want to ask questions to people in charge."

Quest looked at Wade and Tucker.

"Looks like you two have got to deal with this. Please look convincing enough so people get scared and stay inside for once."

Tucker mumbled under his breath and Wade simply grinned.

"I've got police patrols to interrogate. Until autopsy results..."

Thoughtful and completely forgetting about the rest of the team, Quest turned around and exited the building. The blank canvas was slowly starting to color itself. 


	20. Chapter 20

"Guys? Come here, please."

Dan and Phil looked at each other before following their boss out of their radio booth. He looked concerned, his eyebrows were furrowed and crinkles showed in the corner of his eyes.

"Yes?" Dan asked once they were out.

"I'm not glad I have to ask you this because your show is usually very happy and spirit lifting, but I have no choice."

Dan and Phil stared at each other again, confused.

"Please warn the people listening about Alpha and ask them to stay inside if possible." He said all at once.

Dan opened wide, indignant eyes.

"I don't want to be rude, but we're the Dan and Phil show, not the news." He exclaimed. "The news are literally on the floor underneath us, why don't you ask them?"

Phil nudged Dan.

"They're doing it right now, like they've been doing the entire day." Their boss replied. "It's just that the police called and asked every radio station to warn the population so they would stay inside."

Dan scoffed. Phil nudged him again.

"Just do it subtly." He added before leaving.

Dan and Phil went back to their booth.

"It's so ridiculous." Dan whispered to Phil. "It's not like two guys with fringes on a radio show would convince people to stay inside."

"Let's just do as we're told." Phil replied. "If we sensitize them about Alpha, maybe we'll be able to stop at least one death."

Phil shuddered at his own words. Dan stared directly into Phil's eyes.

"Do you seriously think a simple warning to the population will stop Alpha from killing more people?"

Phil swallowed hard. He looked away from Dan and tried to repress the fear that had crashed upon him.

"He's killed eight people so far." Dan added. "He's dismembered two people! If he was an amateur, they would've already found him. He's not going to quit so easily."

"Sometimes I begin to wonder if you don't look up to that person who kills so many innocent people..." Phil mumbled, staring at his feet.

Dan was taken aback.

"Of course I don't." He replied hurriedly. "I'm just stating facts."

He looked at Phil. He was pouting. His thoughts about the future suddenly resurfaced and his brain ached again. He put on his headphones and sighed deeply.

"I wish all of this could be over." Phil whispered so only he could hear.

~

The radio show ended and Dan and Phil were back home. A weird sensation was rumbling down Dan's stomach. It made his hands ball up and his heart feel like it was filling up his entire chest. His mind, it was whispering to him, it was commanding him to continue the pattern. He had to kill.

Phil had ventured off to his bedroom to read and Dan was in his own. He threw his bag on his shoulders and sneaked past Phil's door.

"Where are you going?"

Dan stopped. He turned to face Phil sitting on his bed.

"Going out." Dan replied.

"After we just told everyone not to go out?"

Dan chuckled. That was ironic indeed.

"Yeah, well, remember that I'm off the pattern." He said. "I'm safe."

He shifted to keep walking but Phil spoke again.

"Where are you going, then?"

Dan stopped, looked back at Phil and smiled sarcastically.

"Nice try."

"Just be safe!" Phil exclaimed when Dan walked away.

When Dan stepped outside, he followed the same path he usually did. But, this time, instead of turning right at an intersection, he turned left. That would change things a bit.

He walked but he didn't really pay attention to where he was going. His mind was still focused on the thoughts of the future he had had, and Dan felt weird. Thinking about them made him angry and sad at the same time. The same feeling over and over. His brain aching, and his heart as big as his entire chest.

He felt like his heart and his brain were the devil and the angel on his shoulders. But, instead of speaking to him, they hurt him, pounding hard against his bones to make him understand what was good or what wasn't. And in the middle of these two, there was him, Dan Howell, trying to figure out why the angel was starting to pound as hard as the devil against his painful bones.

The two creatures departed from his shoulders in graceful wing flaps when the head in the middle had had enough.

Dan left his imaginary and felt the pounding against his bones mitigate. Instead, he felt a body ram violently into him. He was propelled back lightly, and, when he lifted his head to see who had so recklessly ran into him, he saw a dark skinned woman lying on the pavement with bright red lipstick on her lips, holding the side of her head with both hands.

Dan crouched next to her and pushed her hands off of her face. He noticed she was wounded. She hit her head on the brick wall behind. He grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up, squeezing tightly. He then rocked her head backwards. It crashed against the brick wall brutally, and Dan repeated the movement with more strength each time. He whispered 'sixteen' when she spat blood and her eyes rolled in their sockets.

Dan blinked.

"Oh, God, are you okay?" He exclaimed, approaching the lady.

She patted the side of her head and looked at her fingers that were covered in a string of blood.

"Ah, I don't know..." She replied as she lifted herself up.

"You're bleeding!" Dan exclaimed.

"Yeah, I noticed..." The woman replied, still holding her head.

"I'm very sorry..." Dan apologised.

"Don't apologize, I was the one running for dear life!" She giggled. "Ah, dear..."

"Would you like me to help you back home?" Dan asked politely.

"No, I'm good." She smiled politely.

She tried to put a foot in front of her but she wobbled and fell on her butt. She looked up at Dan.

"Ah, apparently I'll need your help." She admitted.

Dan chuckled and helped her on her feet.

"Feeling dizzy, are we?" He asked.

"I hit my head on that wall harder than I thought." She replied. "I live just at the end of the road."

Dan nodded and he helped her up to her house in silence. When they reached the door, she untangled her arm from Dan's. She opened the front door and stopped Dan from getting in.

"Thanks for helping me." She thanked.

"Oh. Sure thing." Dan said. "Don't you want help cleaning that up?"

"No, I'll be fine." She smiled awkwardly.

Dan saw through her. She didn't want him to get in because she was scared. Maybe the announcement on the radio show earlier paid off. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Oh, okay..." Dan said innocently. "Um, well, it was nice to meet you...?"

"Isoke." She smiled. "It was nice to meet you too...?"

Dan thought for a second. He stroked the penknife in his pocket and then opened his mouth.

"I'm Phil."

Isoke nodded.

"Pretty name." She complimented. "Goodbye now, Phil."

She started closing the door, but Dan blocked it with his foot. She looked insulted.

"What is it?" She asked harshly this time. "I said I was fine."

"I know. Just one last thing." Dan smiled.

He took his penknife out of his pocket, switched the blade in a swift movement and stabbed Isoke in her stomach. He pushed her backwards and closed the door behind them.

His temple pumping quickly and his breath heavy, he looked at Isoke choking and spitting blood for real this time, and licked his lips with anticipation.

"I liked your effort." Dan said as Isoke grabbed her stomach and blood squirted all over her hands. "But that was weak, Isoke."

She looked up at Dan and squinted her eyes angrily.

"Alpha..." She said painfully. "I knew it was you... I knew... I knew..."

"Of course you knew." Dan replied. "Didn't you hear the warnings all over the news? Shame."

He stepped on her stomach, increasing the pain. Isoke screamed.

"But what could you do about it?" Dan questioned. He grinned. "Nothing, of course. People are so powerless when it comes to danger. Adrenaline rushes don't always work as well as we would like them to."

Dan put more pressure on his foot. Isoke whimpered again. He looked around the room. He noticed crosses above the doors. Several picture frames with biblical paintings hung on the walls, small and bigger figurines of Jesus, and an entire shrine with other religious frames, votive candles on a small table alongside a rosary, holy water and a Virgin Mary figurine, and, in the middle of all the other stuff, a medium size crucifix.

"You're n-not going to g-get away with t-t-this!" She stuttered as blood escaped her lips.

"You're saying this like you have the power to magically get away from me." Dan laughed. "That's not happening. You're going to be a part of the pattern, Isoke, you should be proud. You're going to be an important part of the incoming revolution!"

"You're sick..." She whispered.

Dan giggled.

"I know."

He crouched, his foot still stomping Isoke's injured stomach, getting his face closer to hers. He stared into her brown eyes and grinned.

"Isoke." He said. "Do you know what Isoke means?"

She tried swallowing, but instead she spat more blood. Her face was covered in sweat marks, and, after a minute of gathering strength, she looked straight into Dan's eyes and said:

"Gift from God."

Dan nodded.

"Ah, 'Gift from God'." He repeated. "That explains the... decor. Wow, you know what, you've given me a great idea. That is perfect. Isoke, your death is going to be one of the most beautiful I have ever done yet. You should be happy about that."

Isoke struggled under Dan's foot, but it only resulted in more pain.

"Why did I even tell you my name...? I should've called the police as soon as you asked to help me clean that up!" She exclaimed more angrily.

"Ah, even though you knew Alpha is me, there's always a little doubt in the back of your head. A doubt that maybe you're wrong... And so, even though you hadn't given me your name, you would have been powerless."

"I have faith God will help me get through this." She managed to breathe out.

"It's good to believe in things." Dan replied. "You know, I used to believe in Santa Claus. But, everyone knows how that turned out."

Isoke whined, struggling harder. Dan rolled his eyes, getting bored of her screams and complaints. He reached for his penknife that he had put back in his pocket. When he switched the blade, Isoke stopped struggling and tensed under Dan's foot.

"I think it's the longest time I've ever talked with someone once they knew who I was." Dan admitted. "It's been great, Isoke, but I have to move on. Killing you isn't the only thing I have to do."

She started trembling.

"Please, don't..." She begged, crying. "I beg you, have mercy, stop this manslaughter, you could find forgiveness with God, once you admit to your sins, they can always be forgiven, please, please..."

Dan removed his foot from her stomach and leaned down, his features hard and threatening.

"I don't believe in God. I am my own God."

He then stabbed her several times in her already wounded stomach, enough to drain from her the remaining energy that made her hold on to her life.

When he heard her last breath, he stood back up and admired her corpse. He nodded and looked at the shrine. Dan leaned down again, and, with a smile on his face, he jabbed the upper skin on her stomach and lacerated down all the way to the level of her hipbones.

"That'll be a gift for Quest, from me. A gift from God." He gleefully said.

~

"So you're telling me you didn't see anything suspicious?"

"Yes."

"You have to be joking."

Quest was starting to lose patience. Of all the patrols he had put on duty the night Guy and Howie died, none of them had seen anything suspicious.

"I gave you a description." Quest said, trying to calm himself down. "You didn't see anyone of all people that could stick to it, with or without a white and a black man?"

The man shrugged.

"No."

"The description is so vague how did you manage to miss someone that looked like that?!" Quest exclaimed.

"I don't know. But I did see someone walk off with a black and a white man." The cop said.

Quest reached for pictures of the victims in his pocket.

"Did the men look like these guys?"

The cop took them in both hands and examined them closely.

"Uh, I can't really tell. It was dark." He told. "But, it could be."

Quest rolled his eyes, snatched the pictures and shoved them back in his pocket.

"Can you describe the third man you saw?"

"That I remember clearly. You don't see people walk around with that kind of thing often. He had a purple coat and it had galaxy motifs on it."

Quest furrowed his eyebrows. A galaxy coat? That didn't sound like Alpha at all. He rubbed his temples then shook the cop's hand, deciding he had heard enough.

He walked back to his car, where he leaned back on the seat with his eyes closed. He breathed deeply. This case was going nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. The more they went forward, the less sense it made and the less clues they had.

Quest opened back his eyelids and looked at the time. It was starting to get late. As he remembered Jesus and Vincent had been sent home to rest and that the autopsy results would be ready only the next day, he drove back home and tried to fall asleep.

~

Phil stood up from his bed, stretched his muscles and left his room. He needed a warm drink to relax him before going to sleep.

He walked past Dan's room but stopped a few steps later. He turned his head and gazed at the door Dan had left ajar when he had ventured off. Phil couldn't lie to himself and say he hadn't been concerned about Dan. Since the radio show earlier and the way he had been talking to himself in his room this morning, his worries about Dan's mental state had simply increased.

This wasn't a simple little depression anymore, Phil thought. It was way more dangerous and self-destructive. He had done a research online about mental illnesses and the way victims act when they are offered help. He had learned they often reject it by either ignoring the help or becoming angry and violent, claiming they don't need help and distancing themselves from the assistance. He also read that they refused treatment by drinking alcohol or doing drugs. It all came back to Dan's behavior.

He couldn't believe this was happening. He never thought, in a million years, that Dan could be affected with a mental illness. And finding out only now made him responsible of Dan. And having to deal with this alone made him feel feelings he never thought he'd have to deal with.

But Phil wasn't one for giving up. The more he found out about Dan's thoughts and behavior, the more he could help him. He knew there was a lot of things Dan was doing that he didn't know of, but he would find a way to get them out of him.

But, even though all of this, something far away in Phil's mind didn't feel right. A little voice was chanting that, maybe, after all, it wasn't a mental illness at all. Perhaps it was something else that was just... utterly unthinkable for any decent human being.

Maybe Dan wasn't a decent human.

Phil shook his head, brushing away the thought. He couldn't start his investigation with that idea. He couldn't start it with the assumption he was mentally ill either.

Phil sighed. He knew he had to stay neutral. He didn't really know if Dan was ill, but he didn't know if he was decent either. He had to investigate himself to bring out the facts that were hidden from him. He had to act on the fact that there were things Dan wasn't telling him, that he was desperately hiding from him, and that he was lying about. He had to act based on the fact that Dan's personality was going through changes and that he was behaving differently from usual.

He had to investigate on why Dan was becoming another person.

Forgetting about his thirst and tiredness, he walked towards Dan's bedroom door. He pushed it open and scanned the room. Dirty clothes on the ground, open wardrobe, nothing too neatly tidied. This was so typically Dan it almost hurt.

Phil started pushing clothes aside to look among the piles, finding nothing suspicious. He looked behind his piano, behind every furniture, nothing. He didn't know what he expected to find. He had already done a drug's bust in his room and found nothing. Dan would only be even more careful.

But Phil hadn't searched everywhere last time, because Dan was in the room. But this time, he was completely alone. He would've liked to search in Dan's backpack, but he had left with it.

This time, he looked through all of his drawers, pushing aside the clothes, but he didn't find anything unusual. Phil stepped back and looked at the room again. Where else could he possibly search?

Phil noticed the paintings on Dan's walls. He shrugged. He climbed on Dan's bed and grabbed the one hanging above it. He frowned and looked closer. The number 16 was inscribed onto the plaster of the wall. He caressed it with his fingertips, wondering if Dan had done this or if it had always been there but never noticed.

But, suddenly, Phil had a flashback. The memory of Dan, standing on his bed, his painting and bed sheets on the ground, hiding the wall with his back and saying he was searching for his DS. Was he hiding... this?

Phil sighed. What the hell did that mean? Growling in frustration, he hung the painting back on the wall and jumped off at the end of the bed. Phil frowned when he noticed the rebound of the bed was weird. He crouched and put his hand on the mattress. He put pressure on it and could definitely feel something under it.

Phil smirked to himself. Finally something he could dig into.

"What are you doing?"

Phil froze. He stood back up sharply, meeting Dan's suspicious eyes. Phil felt his cheeks burn.

"Uh, n-nothing, I, uh, I heard, uh... There was a sound, I heard a sound, so I came to, uh, check... check it out, yeah..." Phil stammered.

Dan stepped in the room and dropped his backpack on the floor.

"Okay..." He replied as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Had a nice night stroll?" Phil asked casually.

"Great." Dan answered bluntly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go to bed, now."

Phil nodded awkwardly and left Dan's room, feeling his cheeks turning bright red. He turned around one last time to look at Dan.

"Oh, Dan?" He said.

Dan turned his head.

"You've got something... there..." Phil pointed on his own cheek to show Dan where the thing was.

Dan opened wide eyes and wiped the dry blood off his face. He laughed awkwardly.

"Must've scratched a scab..." He justified nervously.

Phil nodded and walked to the kitchen to finally get his warm drink.

~

Wade had dropped by Quest's house that morning. He wanted to talk to him before they reunited with the whole team. Maybe Quest had discovered more information on his side.

Wade turned out to be disappointed. Nothing more had come out on Quest's side, except from the police officers who had seen Guy and Howie in the company of a man with a galaxy coat. They discussed about it while Quest finished his breakfast, and they then headed off to the meeting.

They were the last to arrive and when Quest sat down, he was the first to open his mouth.

"Jesus, I need a miracle." He announced.

"Well, Quest, I would like to, but that's one of the rare things I  _can't_ do." Jesus Harrigan replied.

"Alpha is now at 8 murders. He's completed half of his pattern, we need more clues and quick before he gets to 16." Quest replied frantically, biting his nails.

"Well, calm down, pretty." Zarah exclaimed. "Jesus may not be able to do miracles but he sure knows how to do his job."

Quest furrowed his eyebrows.

"I can't make Tucker look young and beautiful again..." He giggled in Essex's direction. "But Vincent and I sure can find hair on severed body parts."

"Wait..." Quest whispered. "So you mean you..?"

"We found a hair that belongs to Alpha on the corpses." Vincent finished.

Quest jumped on his feet.

"Are you kidding me?" He exclaimed. "This is grand, this is super grand! Did you manage to get DNA off of it? Have you matched it with anyone's?"

"There was indeed a root on the hair, so I registered the DNA in our bank. But, sadly, that DNA doesn't match anyone's in our system." Jesus said. "But, now, if we have suspects, we'll be able to compare their DNA's."

"Brilliant. Brilliant work, guys. Anything else?"

"Dallas and I noticed footprints that revealed that one of the guys had struggled." Zarah said as Dallas spread the pictures on the table. "See the footprints here show that Alpha was holding, presumably Guy Hurell according to the shoe size, from behind and he struggled to get away. The body print here shows that he fell forward, and the blood puddle indicates that his throat had been slit there. Unfortunately, none of the shoe prints were clear enough. Only got approximate shoe sizes."

"That's good enough." Quest continued. He then explained to the team the same thing he had told Wade earlier about the galaxy coat.

"Uh, that's weird." Dallas commented. "But yet, you can change coat pretty easily."

"That's what I figured." Quest agreed. "It's not because he's got a different coat that he's a different guy. No, he's probably trying to blur his trace. But he won't fool us that easily."

The whole team nodded.

"Apart from that, anything else?"

"Not really." Vincent said. "We just wanted to update you on what's been coming out with this case."

"Good." Quest nodded. "Well, as we haven't been able to stop the murders so far, I came up with an idea."

He hadn't talked about this with Wade this morning. He saw 12 intrigued eyes stare directly at him, so he proceeded.

"This is a precautionary measure. We will all have new identities."

Rumors started among the team and looks were exchanged. Even Tucker Essex, with his usual grumpy look, seemed interested in what Quest was about to explain.

Quest reached for his coat's pocket and pulled out the identity cards he had made. He distributed them among his teammates.

"Here are your new names. From now on, I would like all of you to use these pseudonyms when you introduce yourself to strangers. I have mixed the names, so you have ones matching the pattern, and ones that don't."

"So we're bait?" Zarah summarized.

"That's not the word I would use, but, yes, kind of." Quest affirmed. "Though, you guys are trained and more crafty than most people. If you were to encounter Alpha, you would know how to act and get out of there alive."

Tucker and Wade's mouths were still shut. Quest's plan was going alright, and it didn't seem like any of the superiors were rejecting his idea.

"Now, maybe it would be good to go around the table and have your new names read out loud, so we can all get accustomed to them." Quest suggested and everyone agreed.

Zarah took her new identity and read it out loud.

"Apparently now my name is Lavender Frost. With that name I feel like I should feature in the next Disney movie..."

Dallas giggled before reading his one.

"Karl Clinton. With a K. Wow, really?"

"Vernon Ness." Tucker mumbled, wanting to sound grumpy to hide the fact he found this whole idea very clever.

"Xavier Albert, that is amazing!" Jesus exclaimed, laughing. "My dreams of becoming an X-Man are finally alive!"

Quest cracked a smile.

"Randy Barlow. Aw, Jesus, your name is much cooler than mine!" Vincent whined.

"Owen Layton." Wade said.

"And I'm Ulysse Dixon. Good, now, learn your names, love your names, be your names. I don't want you calling each other by your real names in public. Don't call me Quest, don't call me Kadner, I'm Ulysse Dixon. Clear?"

They all nodded. This made Quest smirk. He grabbed his coat and left the room with Wade behind. Once they were outside, Wade took the opportunity to congratulate him on his great initiative.

"Hopefully it will help the investigation and spare us." Quest replied. "I just hope we find who Alpha is as soon as possible for all of this to end."


	21. Chapter 21

He had been running for so long his lungs felt like fireballs inside his heavy chest. He glanced behind him in panic like he wanted to convince himself the threat had magically vanished. But when he saw him turn the corner hurriedly with an evil grin covering the entirety of his face, he felt his heart rate increase, which he thought was humanly impossible, and kept sprinting, praying for his painful thighs to hold on until he could escape. He shifted to a corridor on the left, then to the right, kept going forward, cut in a diagonal passage, but the more he ran, the less he distanced himself from the threat. He could hear distinctive footfalls accompanied with the clatter of his large and sharp knife scraping against the hard wall, above the sound of his own short breath and heart rate beating through his whole head. He looked behind him once more, hoping he would've given up, but when he saw him brandishing his knife and licking his lips with anticipation, he felt tears prick his eyes. Suddenly, he stopped running and frantically looked around him. There was no more corridors. He had reached the end of this maze he had been trapped in. Distraught, he turned around slowly, facing the threat, which was now only a meter away from him. The threat stopped running too, and looked straight into his eyes, burning his retina with his devilish stare. He tried to melt into the wall, disappear, become as one with the air and float away freely... But with his limbs quivering, his lungs burning and the threat approaching, all he could do was whisper in a low, pleading, and defeated voice: "Phil... please..."

The corner of Phil's mouth stretched even more on his face, still approaching Dan with an evil glimmer floating in his eyes.

"It's my turn to do this..." was all Phil replied as he stopped in front of a frightened Dan, holding his knife up to his throat, and slashing it in one straight movement.

Dan jerked awake. He touched his neck in panic. To his relief, it was perfectly uninjured. He rubbed his hand on his sweaty forehead and let his head fall back on his pillow.

His heart was still beating fast and he rested his hand on it as if he had healing powers. It was the second time he had a nightmare like this. He had woken up dripping in sweat and startled yesterday morning too. Except, in the first dream, Phil had beaten him with his fists when Dan had reached the maze's dead end.

Dan felt powerless to these dreams and had no idea what his mind was trying to tell him. In the beginning, it had communicated perfectly with him and nothing was confusing. But, since a few days, Dan had found himself feeling things he shouldn't have felt. And he didn't understand. He knew his subconscious was sending him a message, but the more he searched for its meaning, the more he deepened himself into his forest of thoughts and feelings.

And so far, none of it proved to be good for him.

It had allowed Phil to get closer to his vulnerable self and it was threatening his pattern. He knew the depression wasn't a good excuse anymore. He knew Phil was aware that something bigger was happening. But, fortunately, he didn't know what yet.  _Yet._  

It still gave him a good amount of time to distract him while he finished off his pattern.

After finally finding his breath, he pushed the covers off his body and got out of bed. He looked at the time on his phone, it was 6:30 in the morning. He moaned at how early it was, but with the dream he had just had, he wasn't ready to go back to sleep. So he decided to jump in the shower to wash away all his emotions he wasn't able to control.

When he got out, he walked past Phil's bedroom, which he always kept the door ajar at night, and he found him fast asleep. He entered his own room and got dressed.

Dan remembered finding Phil snooping around in his room when he came back last night before relieving himself from his fantasies and passing out on his bed. What had he been doing? What had he found?

Dan almost gave up on the thought that Phil could've found something suspicious until he noticed the painting above his bed was wonky. He frowned, got closer, and it came back to him. Horrified, he took the painting off the wall and looked at the plaster to convince himself what he thought wasn't real. Unfortunately, it was all too true.

The number 16 he had carved into his wall was still there. Dan was a maniac of symmetry, no way would he have let that painting be wonky without noticing. That only meant one thing; Phil had seen the number.

Dan slapped himself. Phil had seen it! What next? Would he find out why Dan had come back home with scratches and dirt on his face a few weeks ago? Find out what he was burning in the gas fire and why? Find his penknife and the use Dan was making of it? Finally find out why Dan desperately needed those bike gloves for? Or just casually catch him in the act of murdering?

Dan hung the painting back, making sure it was symmetrical, and tried to breathe. He was being paranoid. He had to be more rational; Phil probably didn't even know why this was there, or what it meant. The probability he had made a connection to the numbehfr 16 inscribed on his wall and Alpha's mark was very small.

Dan jumped off his bed, trying to convince himself he was feeling better. He heard something small hit the ground. He checked at the end of his bed, curious, and noticed two nails had fallen off from under his mattress. Something clicked in his mind.

Dan had found Phil crouched at this exact spot yesterday night.  Had he been about to look under the mattress? Dan gasped. Of course he was.

Dan snatched the two nails from the ground and lifted up his mattress. He grabbed the handful there was as well as the hammer he had hidden the other night. He dropped his material in his backpack and zipped it closed.

Dan knew Phil would come back in his room to finish what he had started. He grinned to himself. He would be mean to leave Phil hanging and let him find nothing under his mattress!

After putting his backpack on his chair, Dan left his bedroom and walked up to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and searched around. After finding a cucumber, he closed back the fridge and tore a banana off the cluster on the counter. He then went back to his room and dropped the foods on his bed.

He opened his bedside drawer. He grabbed the packet of condoms he had left and retrieved the remaining ones in the box. He also took the half-filled bottle of lube. He snatched back the cucumber and banana before crouching in front of his bed.

He lifted up his mattress and neatly placed all of his items. After smiling satisfyingly, he dropped the mattress and dusted his hands with pride.

"Can't wait for you to find  _that_ , Phil." He giggled to himself.

After he finished laughing, he went to the kitchen to prepare himself some breakfast. Later, he heard the doorbell ring. Frowning, he walked to the front door. The mailman greeted him with an unnatural happy smile. He asked for Dan Howell, to which he replied with a lazy 'that's me'. The mailman deposited a packaged in Dan's arms, still smiling with his bright teeth, saluted him and walked off.

Dan didn't remember ordering something online. Curious, he went back upstairs and opened the package. He finally realized it was the shirt he had bought hurriedly for Phil's birthday. He sighed. He didn't feel like giving Phil a gift. His feelings towards him were getting as confusing as the messages his subconscious were sending him, and he didn't know how to act with him anymore. Act like he was on his side? Against him? Or neutral?

Dan groaned and folded the shirt. He got some ribbon, crisscrossed it around the shirt and tied the end neatly. He reluctantly dropped it in front of Phil's bedroom door alongside a handwritten note.

Losing himself in his foggy sky of feelings, Dan left the apartment to get some fresh air.

~

At precisely 7:32am, as he was shaving his stubble, Quest got a call from Wade announcing that Alpha had taken another life. Groaning, he finished shaving quickly and drove off to the address he had been given.

Once he got to the crime scene, he walked through the police officers, which were discussing with Tucker Essex, and paramedics to find Wade and the whole team already set up around yet another lifeless body.

When he entered, no one spoke. They simply nodded silently, evidently all sharing the same panic. Alpha had to be stopped and it was starting to get extremely urgent.

Quest observed the scene and tried hard not to show his repulsion. A dark skinned woman was lying at his feet, her dark and wide open eyes were staring into the abyss and her stomach was lacerated vertically from the end of the sternum to the level of her hips, her guts spread around her body like a halo. Inside her cut open stomach, Alpha had shoved figurines of the Christ and the Virgin Mary, a few votive candles, several crucifixes, a bottle of holy water and a rosary. All of those bathing in blood and internal organs.

Putting a hand to his mouth, Quest tore his eyes off the horrible scene. He looked at his colleagues' faces. They looked all similarly disgusted and discouraged, but, for the first time since he had been working with them, Jesus was the one who looked the most disconnected. Quest frowned, worried.

Zarah, crouched in front of a blood puddle, opened her mouth first.

"Sometimes I wonder why I signed up to this." She whispered before gesturing Dallas to snap a picture of what she was looking at.

"Alright, who is she?" Quest asked, rubbing his forehead to forget the stench of the room.

"Isoke Jalloh." Wade replied. "28 years old, according to her IDs we found in her purse."

Quest nodded.

"Alright, Frost, anything?"

Nobody replied. Quest rolled his eyes.

"Lavender Frost, I'm speaking to you!"

Zarah raised her head from the floor she was examining.

"Oh, yeah, Lavender Frost, that's me... Um, so far I've got a shoe print, a more reliable one from last time. Alpha stepped in blood. I will be able to compare the size with the one I already have. Since the shoe sole was well printed onto the ground, we will be able to compare them with a suspect's shoes. If we ever  _find_  a suspect..."

For a moment, Quest thought about his black hooded suspect. Since Favor Gallagher's murder, he hadn't stopped watching the tape over and over again in his tiny apartment. Every time he watched it, though, he ended up with a terrible headache. The black hooded man haunted his dreams and consumed every free thought he had.

"Grand. Barlow, how about you?"

Vincent had clearly learned his new identity of 'Randy Barlow' by heart since he looked up at Quest and laid out his and Jesus's report so far.

"Lacerated stomach, internal bleeding, several stab wounds, damaged internal organs... Her guts were punctured, so she died of the multiple stab wounds before she was opened up."

Quest listened carefully. He looked at her position on the ground, looked behind him, walked around her body, examined his surroundings, thought a bit longer, and then looked back at his team as Dallas snapped another picture.

"Alpha was on the other side of the door when he stabbed her."

He stopped and looked at the others to see if they were following. Zarah ended his explanation.

"Because of how close she is to the door. If Alpha had already been in, she would have been further in the house."

Quest approved with a grin.

"Since Barlow said she was stabbed first, we can deduce Alpha forced his way in by stabbing her, then closed the door behind him to finish her off." He pointed to a particularly dark stab wound on the left side of her stomach. "Could that, perhaps, be the first wound?"

Vincent approached to examine the wound closer while Jesus still didn't speak a word. After a minute, he replied affirmatively, explaining that Alpha made this wound before the others, which gave it the time to bruise.

"Well now, Alpha is left handed."

Wade smirked.

"It's great all this, Dixon," Dallas interrupted, "but, why this?"

He pointed to the stomach full of catholic items. Quest grinned, flattered by the way Dallas remembered his fake identity, and opened his mouth.

"Yes, I was getting rather eager myself to find out what this all means. Any ideas?"

The team shrugged. This could have a bunch of different meanings. Alpha considered his murders works of art, and art was meant to give different impressions. But, suddenly, as everyone tried to figure out something, Jesus spoke, for the first time since Quest had stepped in the place, with a disconnected and low voice.

"Gift from God."

Everyone in the room turned their heads in his direction with confusion flickering in their eyes.

"What?" Zarah asked. "What do you mean?"

"Isoke means Gift from God."

"How do you know that?" Dallas asked.

But Jesus ignored him.

"Her stomach was cut open and Alpha stuffed it with religious items to represent God and His gift. But you know what else is considered as a gift from God in Christianity? A baby."

Quest's mouth fell slightly.

"He made her pregnant with catholic figurines..." Vincent whispered, disgusted.

"It's a gift from God. From Alpha Himself." Quest finished off.

"His God complex seems to have amplified since the last time." Wade pointed out.

Quest agreed silently. The stench tickling his nostrils, he decided he had seen enough. He gestured the team to keep doing their job, thanked them, and went over to Jesus. He patted his back sympathetically to try and cheer him up, unsuccessfully. It was the first time since he had met him that he saw him without a smile. It destabilized him to see such a joyful human be down. Jesus excused himself to Quest, Wade and Vincent and walked out.

After that, Quest left the building with Wade and found himself among the police officers and paramedics. He noticed Jesus in a corner, dragging desperately on an already short cigarette. Quest never knew Jesus smoked. Genuinely concerned for him, the only agent in the Alpha case Quest had grown to sincerely appreciate, he promised he would go talk to him after their upcoming meeting.

As he was leaving the closed perimeter, he saw someone walk past it in a flash. He turned his head at the last minute, and made a very short eye contact with the pedestrian.

The two browns eyes melted his brain. He was about to recognize them as a name was resurfacing, but he was abruptly torn from his thoughts when a police officer called his fake identity out.

"Agent Dixon!"

He and Wade stopped walking and saw the man run towards them.

"Here, that's the numbers of the person who found the victim and his address. We asked him a few questions earlier, but he was just a mailman, he saw her through the window. We let him walk off. I already gave them to Vernon Ness but I thought it would be good to give it to you too."

As the officer explained, Quest half listened. He kept throwing glances to the pedestrian walking by who was now getting away from the scene. He had seen him before, his tall frame, this brown hair, this fringe...

"Great, thank you very much, officer." Wade thanked, grabbing the piece of paper and shoving it into his pocket.

And as the officer walked off, the pedestrian turned to his right and disappeared on another street.

Instinctively, Quest stepped forward to follow him, but he felt Wade pull on his sleeve.

"Come on, we have to interrogate the neighbors or else we'll never be done with this case." Wade said.

Not tearing his eyes away from where the pedestrian had disappeared, he followed Wade to the neighbor's house as he felt the beginning of a terrible headache pound his head.

"Rupert..?"

 ~

Dan knew lurking around his crime scenes was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to see their faces after finding Isoke, to see them look at him and have absolutely no clue he was a serial killer, _the_  murderer of that woman... and so many others.

Anyway, he knew Quest and his team didn't have any suspects yet. Or at least a valid one. If they had, it would've been all over the news. Like every other murder Dan had committed.

As he thought about it, the warning his and Phil's boss asked them to give out wasn't helpful at all. Did they all seriously believe this was going to help in any way? Did they genuinely think Alpha would get scared of a little warning? No.

And most people are not scared until they have experienced fear themselves. They won't believe in the media as much, because they have a bad reputation of manipulating the information and overreacting to every little thing. The population had grown not to believe every word they say. And this was to Dan's advantage.

Dan felt lighter this morning as he had left his backpack at home. He didn't want to be seen walking around in the daylight with a backpack full of nails, a hammer and bike gloves if he was to be intercepted. Though, he had slid his penknife in his pocket, just in case. But he knew that if he left his bag in his room, Phil wouldn't hesitate to search through it. That's why he hid it in his wardrobe under a pile of clothes. He knew Phil had already looked through there, so he wouldn't do it again.

All he would find would be Dan's little secret under the mattress.

Dan giggled as he turned Isoke's street. At the end of it, he noticed the familiar yellow "crime scene" tape determining the area of the scene. He saw an ambulance and a few police cars. There was also another car that didn't resemble a professional police one. He deduced it was Quest Kadner's. Dan shuddered to the thought of seeing Quest again. It made him ecstatic to see him, talk to him without him even realizing he was chasing after Dan.

"Blindness to its finest..." Dan thought, grinning.

As he approached, he saw the faces better. He didn't recognize officers from the last time he revisited a crime scene though. But, suddenly, in a corner, he saw a familiar face. A man, about medium height with black hair neatly combed on his head and tan skin. He was dragging desperately on a short cigarette and blowing nervously the smoke away from him. Last time Dan had seen him, he had a smile stuck on his face going from ear to ear. This time, he looked distressed. And Dan had a pretty good idea on why. He remembered his name very well, pronounced clearly by Quest two weeks ago:

 _"Jesus_ Harrigan _! The forensic! He's the most relaxing out of them all..."_

Dan stroked his penknife inside his pocket instinctively. He licked his lips as he watched Jesus blow another cloud of smoke. He grinned to himself.

At the same moment, Quest emerged from Isoke's front door followed by another man, older than him with hard features and light brown hair greased backwards on his head. Dan had seen him before at the crime scene he had gone to with Phil, but he didn't know his name.

He wanted Quest to see him. So he stared directly into his eyes and kept walking until Quest looked in his direction and they made eye contact. When their eyes met, Dan smiled as cheekily as he could. Quest squinted his eyes, like he was trying to remember who Dan was, but, before he could, he was interrupted by a voice.

"Agent Dixon!"

Dan frowned. Dixon? Confused, he watched if Quest would reply to this intervention, and, to his surprise, he and his tough looking friend turned around and waited for the guy running up to them.

Dan tore his eyes off of them and smiled to himself. Fake names! Quest was experimenting. Dan, impressed, couldn't stop grinning.  _"Awesome, this is awesome. Clever, yet, not enough for me, Questy..."_

Dan threw one last glance at Jesus in the corner who was now lighting himself a second cigarette. He shoved his hands in his coat's pocket and turned into another street.

Whatever Quest was doing, Dan liked it.

~

Phil smiled timidly when he read the handwritten note attached to the present he had found in front of his bedroom door. He pulled the ribbon and unfolded the shirt. He felt his cheeks burn.

He took a shower and then put on the shirt. He noticed Dan still wasn't home, so, after dressing up, he sneaked into his room to finish what he had started yesterday. Dan was hiding something under his mattress and Phil wanted to find out what. He hoped it would help him figure out Dan's problems.

He crouched in front of the mattress and, delicately, he lifted it up. At first, he frowned, not sure of what he was seeing. He reached his hand and pulled out a banana. Phil stared at it intensely, trying to process what Dan could be doing with a banana under his bed. Snack?

But then, he shoved his hand deeper and pulled out a cucumber. Even more confused, he moved his hand around to see if there was something else. He felt something small and square shaped. He furrowed his eyebrows even more. He hit his hand against plastic and he could feel more of the square things around it. He dragged them all out from under the mattress and let them fall in front of him on the floor.

Condoms and a bottle of lube hit the ground. Phil brought a hand to his mouth. Horrified and embarrassed, he grabbed all the objects quickly and shoved them back under the mattress. He fixed his hair awkwardly, stood back up and left the room.

Phil went back to his room and grabbed his phone like he wanted to distract himself from the images that were coming up in his head. This wasn't what was under Dan's bed yesterday. Dan was making fun of him. He groaned. He should've guessed Dan would change what was there! And he was out again, he couldn't have a look inside his backpack!

Phil let himself fall on his bed and sighed deeply. Dan was giving him a hard time. But that's not what would make him give up on helping him. Far from that. If Dan was resistant to Phil's insistence, it meant there was something worth digging through behind his façade. Phil was ambitious that he would get to the end of this.

Besides, they were leaving for America in two days. Phil hoped this would help Dan relax and perhaps make him open up about his situation.

To try and forget about the discovery he had made in Dan's room, he grabbed his suitcase and started packing.

About an hour later, Dan pushed open the door of their flat with a grin on his face. He went to his room and saw Phil packing a suitcase on the way there.

"Nice shirt." Dan commented.

Phil jumped.

"Oh my God, you scared me!" He said, his hand on his heart. "And thank you I bought it earlier."

Dan laughed sarcastically as Phil stuck out his tongue.

"Seriously, thank you." Phil smiled. "I love it."

Dan simply nodded. His eyes diverted to the suitcase.

"Why are you packing up?" He wondered.

"We're leaving for Playlist in two days, already forgot?" Phil replied, smirking.

"Oh God, yes, I should get to packing as well..." Dan mumbled.

His thoughts of the future resurfaced. Would people love him? Worship him? Or despise him? And what about Phil..?

_"Poison! Toxic!"_

"Are you okay?"

Dan jerked.

"Uh, y-yeah..." Dan stuttered. Rapidly, he disappeared into his bedroom. His breath got heavier, he felt his stomach tighten and his head got dizzy.

_"Poison!"_

_"Toxic!"_

Dan grabbed his head with both hands. He squeezed it as strong as he could, like he was trying to extract the thoughts out of his mind forcefully. The voice inside of him kept repeating the same two words, louder and louder, Phil's face floating in his mind. The words were pounding on his skull like a hammer. He felt like they were tearing the inside of his brain and trying to escape through the gap, and that on the end of each one there were a million blades cutting the flesh on their way out, accentuating the excruciating pain in his head.

But, over the evil voice murmuring loudly into Dan's ears, he heard another one. A peaceful one that almost sounded like a melody. It was Phil's voice.

_"I want you to talk to me when you feel bad."_

Dan's eyes shot open and the voice lowered down a decibel. He turned around desperately. He felt like everything around him was in slow motion. He reached Phil's door and opened his mouth, his lips quivering with fear. Phil was his friend, his confident... he was trustworthy...

"Phil..." Dan managed to whisper through the voice still screaming inside of his head.

"Yes?" Phil replied. He shifted his body to look at Dan and furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed how pale he was. "Are you sure you're alright..."

"Phil... I- I need to talk to you..." Dan murmured, trying to hear himself over the voice. "You told me to come to you when I felt bad..."

Phil's face lit up.

"Yes, yes I did!" He replied a little too enthusiastically for the situation. "Sit down, we'll talk about what's wrong..."

Dan shook his head. He grabbed it with his right hand, feeling like he was about to pass out, the voice still yelling  _"Poison! Toxic!"._

"I'm... Phil, I'm scared..."

"Why are you scared?" Phil asked gently, not wanting to lose Dan. He was too close to a confession.

"I..."

What was he doing?! Why was he confessing to Phil?! He couldn't say anything, Phil would only shove his nose into what wasn't his business even more! The voice was roaring into his head and made his vision blurry.  _"Shut up, Dan!"_

"Why are you scared?" Phil repeated more peacefully this time. He wanted to be sure he got an answer.

"I don't know..." Dan breathed out, his voice cracking. He was on the verge of crying.

Dan was biting! Phil had to pull hard not to let him slip away!

"What are you scared of?"

_"Of losing myself... Of losing you..."_

_"Poison! Toxic!"_

Dan didn't reply. The world around him was crumbling down. He had lost the ability to see, his head was hurting so badly he had to grab it with his other hand as his ears started buzzing.

"What are you scared of?" Phil stressed this time. He was about to get something!

_"Poison! Toxic! Poison! Toxic! POISON! TOXIC!"_

The voice stopped. Dan's head suddenly felt light and his senses came back all at once. He let go off his head and looked at Phil straight into the eyes with a slowness to send chills down your spine.

"Forget it." He said bitterly.

Phil's eyes opened widely.

"No, Dan, I want to help you-" Phil protested but Dan cut him off.

"Fuck off, Phil."

And he disappeared into the hallway. Phil couldn't believe his ears. It was going so well, Dan was about to confess something! He even looked like he was about to cry! What could've changed his mind so quickly?

Phil sat heavily on his bed and put his head on his fist. He was so close. He sighed, rubbed his face vigorously and went back to packing, telling himself that maybe Dan would change his mind again and want to share something with him. He stopped himself from shedding a tear. Seeing Dan like this was getting more painful everyday.

Getting into Dan's mind without him wanting him in turned out to be harder and more frustrating than he thought it would be.

Meanwhile, Dan stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. He stared intensely at his crying reflection.

He had almost confessed to Phil.

"You're stupid! You're ridiculous and you're a sad fucking excuse for a human being!" He spat at himself. "What the fuck were you thinking?!"

He wiped tears off his face, digging his nails in his flesh. He sent his left hand flying and it landed in a loud sound on his cheek. He then looked back at himself directly into the black of his pupils, like he was trying to talk to his very own soul.

"You're a God, act like one! You're smarter than Phil, don't let your emotions get to you! Think about the pattern! Think about the revolution! You're the great Alpha."

He grinned to himself mischievously.

"Phil is poison. Phil is toxic."

But even after convincing himself, there was still his microscopic angel on his shoulder squealing that he was making the wrong choice. The devil on the other shoulder breathed his flames in the angel's direction so Dan couldn't hear his complaints anymore. 

~

Vincent watched Jesus walk into the laboratory. He sat down on a stool and started analysing another sample. Vincent sighed.

"Jesus..." He began saying but Jesus cut him off.

"Are you done analysing the residues from under her nails?" He asked, not leaving his eyes from the microscope.

"Yes, there's nothing." He replied. "Look, Jesus..."

But he cut him off again.

"And the blood tests?"

"That too, still nothing."

He tried talking to his friend again, but when he cut him off for a third time, he lost patience.

"Jesus, stop it!" He exclaimed. "What's wrong with you, man? You look awful! Talk to me for Christ's sake!"

"There's nothing wrong with me." Jesus replied bitterly, his mouth tensing up.

"J, come on, you haven't told one single Jesus joke since this morning, that is not you! There is clearly something wrong, why don't you tell me?"

Silence.

"Is it Thomas?" Vincent wondered more calmly. "Do you miss him?"

"I do miss him." Jesus sighed, looking down. "But it's not that. Besides, he calls me every week."

"And how is he?"

"He's good. He likes it there. He says Spanish people are really nice and that they have really great food. He made friends and he likes his classes."

"It's great to hear. You're a good dad, J. You made the right choice to let him go study there."

He smiled sadly.

"Thanks..."

"But if it's not Thomas, then, what is it?" Vincent asked again.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Jesus tensed up again and stared back into his microscope.

"Is it because of Susanna..?" Vincent tried.

"No." Jesus answered quickly. "We've been over this a million time, she is gone and I'm fine without anyone else."

"Help me, then!" Vincent exclaimed. "Tell me what's wrong!"

"Vincent, I'm scared, all right? I'm scared." Jesus blurted out.

"Why are you scared?" Vincent questioned, worried.

"I... I don't know. It's just, this morning, when we got to Isoke Jalloh's murder scene... I was thrown off. I don't know what happened, but my breath got short and I felt my guts tighten..."

"It was a pretty horrible murder, it happens, we find out we're not as strong as we want it to be in front of those things sometimes."

"No, Vince, I..." Jesus explained vaguely. "I didn't feel weird in that way. It's more like... it's more like I felt connected... like it was about me..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Vincent interrupted. "Okay, first off, what? How could this be about you? Second of all, why would you feel connected to this murder? What does it have to do with you in any way?"

Silence.

"You didn't..." Vincent started off, not sure he wanted to finish the sentence.

"No, of course not!" Jesus exclaimed, offended. "I'm not Alpha, what are you saying!"

"Just making sure..."

"No, I meant... I don't know. I feel something in my guts, something weird. I can't seem to put my finger on it, it's just..."

He looked up like he was asking for help to find the right words to an invisible person.

"A feeling. I don't know how to explain it..."

"It's probably this case." Vincent told. "It's endless and it gets gorier and gorier. It's probably messing with your head and feelings."

"Maybe..." Jesus whispered. "Fear is a strange concept."

"Sure is." Vincent chuckled. "But don't worry, J, nothing can happen to you. I'll make sure of it. And when I'm not around, remember, you're awesome anyway, no one gets to you that easily!"

Jesus smiled lightly.

"Stop worrying, alright? Call it a day. Go get some rest. I'll finish the report and it'll be ready for tomorrow's meeting."

"You're right. I'm intoxicated with that case... It's just... I don't know why I'm so thrown off... something is really bugging me and..."

"Calm down. It's alright, you're fine. Now get out of here and stop thinking about it."

Jesus nodded and grabbed his stuff. When he reached the door, he turned to look at Vincent.

"You should come back home for a beer sometime. It's been a while."

"Of course, I would love to!" He smiled.

Jesus left. A second later, he opened back the door and put his head in.

"Wait, scratch the beer, we'll have wine and bread instead." He said forcing a smile.

Vincent laughed. "That's the Jesus I like!"

Jesus exited the morgue, sat in his car and drove off. When he was finally in his bed staring at the ceiling, he realized that his friend's words hadn't cheered him up at all. His fear persisted and it boiled his brain.

He didn't know why he was scared and that was the main source of his fear.

The fear of fear. 


	22. Chapter 22

For the rest of Tuesday, Dan had avoided talking to Phil as much as he could. When the conversation couldn’t be escaped from, Dan talked with such a haughty tone that it had only managed to irritate Phil. _“Passive-aggressive, emotional-vulnerable”_ was all Phil could think of.

Dan kept talking to him like he was above him, like he was giving himself some kind of importance, like he was trying to convince Phil, or himself, or both, that he was worth more than he actually was and that talking down on people was going to raise his esteem. Whatever reason he did that for, Phil couldn’t stand it. He had been so close to getting a confession out of him only to end up there, frustrated, clueless and dispirited.

Phil then decided to ignore Dan for what was left of the day, which suited him. They had gone to bed without telling goodnight, and Phil prayed it wouldn’t be like this to fly to America on Thursday morning.

As the sun was waking up the other side of the world, the moon shone on theirs as their head laid on their pillow. Phil, who had been sleeping soundly, felt himself being dragged from his dreams and brought back to reality slowly. When he was fully aware his mind was awake, he noticed why. He heard a series of sounds coming through the wall.

He frowned, not quite figuring out what it could be, and listened more carefully. He could hear Dan’s voice. He was saying things. Incoherent, indistinctive, but loud words. Phil thought he could probably understand what they meant if he concentrated harder, but he was already starting to fall back asleep. He brushed it off as he flew back to dreamland.

On Wednesday, Dan awoke with an excruciatingly painful headache, just like Quest, who had woken up once again soaking in sweat due to his vivid night dreams. Dan remembered the events of the day before and massaged his aching forehead. As he dragged himself out of bed, he promised himself not to be tempted by Phil’s help anymore. He had slipped too many times and it was getting dangerous for his alter-ego.

~

After two black coffees, Quest drove to the hospital to have yet another meeting with his crew. He had thought about Isoke Jalloh’s murder all day and all night long and had a few theories in mind, ready to share them with the group. When he parked his car and walked through the entrance, he wondered if Jesus would still be as nervous and strange as yesterday.

As usual, when he got into the meeting room, everyone was already there. He took his place and gestured his coworkers to start. Wade opened the files.

As Allaway was naming the victim, Quest glanced at Jesus. He looked less nervous, but was still kind of pale and dreary.

“…still no link to the other victims.”

Wade then let the forensics speak.

“She died from the several stab wounds. Stabbed a total of 16 times.” Vincent said. “Her internal organs were literally ripped, and judging by the wounds, it was made with the same small weapon as Agana Baldwin, Bradley Cox, Emily Fontaine, Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin as we had already established. The penknife. Nothing in her blood like Favor Gallagher but still a 9 and a 16 on her cheeks. Nothing more, nothing less. Like every other corpse, really.”

Quest nodded and Zarah proceeded.

“I was able to identify a few pair of shoes with the bloody shoe print we found. So we now have a way of identifying the killer _if_ we find a suspect. Still couldn’t find any fingerprints, but, still, we have something.”

Quest looked at the pictures Dallas had put on the table. What his coworkers added was the same information as usual. Nothing more relevant had been found. After they were done talking, Quest turned to Jesus who had been quiet this whole time.

“How did you know Isoke meant gift from God?”

Jesus looked up from his lap painfully slowly.

“Me and…” He took a long breath. “…and Susanna, we were looking for baby names and their meaning when she was pregnant with Thomas. Because I’m such a jokester we actually looked for biblical names. We stumbled across ‘Isoke’. That’s it.”

He threw a brief glance at Vincent before looking back at his lap.

“And for the religious stuff in her stomach?”

“Well, I grew up with two very Christian parents.” Vincent explained with a certain tone of nostalgia. “When they were having my little sister, they were constantly repeating that Gabrielle was their little gift from God… Mama always said that as she rubbed her round belly…”

Jesus suddenly tensed and looked away at how personal and unprofessional what he had just said was. Quest didn’t say anything but was surprised. He realized he didn’t know much of his teammates’ personal lives.

“So, you know, I figured with the crosses implanted inside her guts.” He finished with more of a neutral and professional tone.

Quest simply nodded. He tried to diffuse the tension that had built up due to some reason he was clearly unaware of.

“So if we take all of this, we can clearly deduce that Alpha’s god complex is growing bigger.” He said. “If we look back at his murders, they were all connected to religious stories.”

With his last words, Quest caught the close attention of his teammates.

“How?” Tucker Essex asked with, for the first time Quest had known him, only interest, and no disgust or hatred.

“I did research the other day, and, somehow, the way the victims have died all related to a biblical story. First off we have Agana Baldwin, Alpha’s first ever murder. It can refer to the story of Cain and Abel, the two sons of Adam and Eve in the Book of Genesis. Abel was the first human to ever die and he was murdered by Cain, making it the first ever murder.”

The silence that had settled could let you hear everyone’s beating heart. Quest went on.

“Bradley Cox was stabbed straight through the heart. In the Psalms 37:15 it says that _‘their sword shall enter their own heart, and their bows shall be broken’_. This passage means to ‘ _let us be satisfied that God will make all to work for good to us.’_ ”

“Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans. He was drowned in a mixture of water and his girlfriend’s blood. Hebrews 11:23. _‘By faith they passed through the Red Sea as though they were passing through dry land; and the Egyptians, when they attempted it, were drowned.’”_

“Emily Fontaine, eyes gauged out of their sockets because she was ‘blind’. 2 Corinthians 4:4. _‘In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.’”_

“Favor Gallagher. She was injected a substance which had effects as deadly as poison. Numbers 21:6. _‘The Lord sent fiery serpents among the people and they bit the people, so that many people of Israel died.’”_

“Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin. Dismembered. Judges 19:25. ‘ _He took a knife, and laid hold on his concubine, and divided her, together with her bones, into twelve pieces, and sent her into all the coasts of Israel.’”_

“And, finally, Isoke Jalloh. A gift from God. Jesus’ birth.”

Quest leaned back on his chair and waited for the other’s reactions. They were still silent, surprised by this sudden elaborate theory.

“What are you getting at?” Dallas asked before anyone else.

“Alpha is slowly creating his own book. If we know which story he’s going to recreate next, maybe we could be able to stop him.”

“That is… amazing.” Zarah said, completely blown away. “But there are so many biblical stories, how are we going to know which one he intends on recreating?”

“I guess we’ll have to follow a timeline.” Wade replied. “What happens after Jesus is born?”

Quest glanced in Jesus Harrigan’s direction from the corner of his eye only to see him rubbing the back of his hand as if pain had seized him, still with his dreary and pale look.

~

Phil had forced Dan out of the house with him to buy a few things he needed left before their departure to America. Reluctantly, he had followed him, telling himself everything would be fine.

When they came back home an hour later, Dan concluded that this little trip in the outdoors hadn’t ruined his cover but also was slightly therapeutic in a way. He didn’t know why, or how, but going out of the house with someone else by his side actually relaxed him. It was like Phil was a remedy…

As Dan put his coat away, he grabbed his head with his hand. When Phil asked him if he was alright, he grumbled that he was and walked to his bedroom. His head had started hurting again. Why was this happening? As soon as he had stepped into the apartment!

A remedy… But, because of Phil, he had almost revealed himself yesterday! _“Poison! Toxic!”_

Dan growled with annoyance and went into the lounge. He sat on the sofa and leaned his head backwards and closed his eyes. The pain wasn’t too present yet.

After a few minutes of drowsing, Dan felt the sofa bounce next to him and he jerked. Phil snickered and opened the TV after putting his laptop on his thighs. After switching the channels a few times, he stopped himself on the news, where the title could be read as _“Alpha strikes again.”_

Dan glanced at Phil to see his reaction and smirked lightly when he noticed his worried look. He then stared back at the screen to see the same police officer that had talked for the murders of Guy and Howie, which Dan remembered was ‘Tucker Essex’.

After his little speech, a reporter was back on the screen and explained in vivid details how Isoke Jalloh had been found dead in her apartment the morning before. They talked about Dan remaining unidentified and untraceable. Dan wasn’t missing a single minute of Phil’s reaction from the corner of his eye. The reporter hadn’t even finished his story that Phil switched the channel.

“Hey, why did you zap? I wanted to know more!” Dan exclaimed.

“Are you kidding me, Dan?” Phil riposted. “This is literally so sick I can’t even begin to comprehend why anyone would do this! And it’s not their first! Nine people!”

Phil had a weird spasm of fear and disgust.

“I’m telling you, I can’t freaking wait to get to America so I don’t have to hear about this sick bastard anymore!”

Dan was taken aback. Sick bastard? Had Phil dropped to such a low standard? Dan thought he was at least a _clever_ bastard.

“Watch your mouth.” Dan teased as he stood up and left the room.

When he reached his room, the pounding in his head started aching even more. Phil’s words echoed in his skull, repeating themselves like they were on a stuck cassette. _“Sick bastard, sick bastard, sick bastard, sick bastard, sick bastard…”_

He grabbed his head again, trying to fight off the pain. But then, his thoughts of the future resurfaced. The angel and the devil on his shoulders started shouting at each other for wisdom.

_“What about Phil..?”_

_“Phil is poison! Toxic!”_

_“Phil is the remedy…”_

_“People will love you!”_

_“People will despise you…”_

_“This is all for revolution!”_

_“This is all in vain…”_

_“Alpha is dead…”_

_“Alpha is NOT dead!”_

_“You will rule the world!!”_

Dan’s vision became blurry. The pain in his skull was so terrible that he felt like his flesh was tearing apart. He backed up slowly, trying to keep his balance, and slid down the wall he had stopped against, knees to his chest.

_“What about Phil..?”_

_“Phil is poison! Toxic!”_

_“Phil is the remedy…”_

_“People will love you!”_

_“People will despise you…”_

_“This is all for revolution!”_

_“This is all in vain…”_

_“Alpha is dead…”_

_“Alpha is NOT dead!”_

_“You will rule the world!!”_

Dan pressed his hands so hard against his head that he thought he would crush it. But he couldn’t even feel it, all he could feel was the pain, the excruciating pain stammering his skull, and the voices, the loud and threatening voices in his head sounding so shrill to his ears that he thought he was deaf. He stomped his feet, unable to contain all the suffering. And for the first time since the beginning of his pattern, Dan wished for the voices to stop.

_“You’re trash!”_

_“You’re a God!”_

_“Phil hates you!”_

_“Phil loves you!”_

_“Kill! Kill! Kill! Again! Again! Again!”_

_“ **K I L L !”**_

His hands weren’t hands anymore, they were hammers, hitting his skull to shatter it, to destroy it to pieces so his mind would stop… Maybe, if only it was in pieces, if it was in a mash, if it wasn’t a mind anymore… maybe, only maybe it would stop… If he was dead… maybe, only maybe…

At this point, Dan hadn’t noticed he was yelling at the top of his lungs. Salty tears dribbled down his cheeks but he thought they were blood oozing from his tearing flesh. But no matter how much he hit himself, no matter how much he prayed for the pain to go away, for the voices to fade out and for everything to turn to numbness, it stayed. It stayed like a dumb disgusting scar on your body, impossible to miss and impossible to like.

~

Phil was about to hit ‘Tweet’ when a helpless, bloodcurdling and shrill scream resonated through the whole building. His heart sunk when he realized where it was coming from and who was producing such a terrifying sound.

Not even bothering putting his laptop aside neatly, Phil jumped from the couch and sprinted out the room to follow the cry. Panicked, he entered Dan’s room to find him sat at the end of a wall, knees on his chest, hands pounding on his head and feet stomping the ground. He ran up to him and noticed tears falling down his cheeks.

He was yelling so loudly Phil could feel it through his whole skeleton. He stood in front of him for a good ten seconds, so shocked that he had been neutralized.

His limbs finally working again, Phil crouched and shook Dan violently, trying to bring him back from his trance.

“DAN! DAN!” He shouted, shaking him from side to side. “DAN!”

He tried grabbing his hands and making him stop hitting himself as he saw bruises were starting to show, but Dan wouldn’t stop.

He forced against him, but there was nothing he could do. Phil’s heart started beating faster, getting close to hysteria.

“DAN! PLEASE! STOP! LISTEN TO ME! DAN!”

He wouldn’t stop. He kept screaming helplessly. Phil stepped back on the verge of tears.

“MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!” Dan suddenly screamed. “PLEASE! STOP! STOP! STOP! PLEASE! MAKE IT ALL STOP! AAAAAH!”

Phil grabbed his head with both hands and looked away, freaked out. His breath had gotten sharp and a tear fell down his cheek. He shoved his hand down his pocket and grabbed his phone. He dialed a number and brought it to his ear, his other hand still grasping at his hair.

 _“Hello?”_ The voice said on the line.

“PJ! PJ, you… you need to- you need to help m- help me!” Phil exclaimed, panicked.

 _“Phil, what’s going on?”_ He asked, worried. _“Who’s screaming like that?”_

“It’s D- it’s Dan! I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t- please! Please- he’s yelling, he’s hitting himself, I-”

Phil glanced back at Dan and immediately looked away.

 _“Phil slow down, I can’t understand you!”_ PJ replied.

“He’s like in a trance! Please, PJ, I don’t know what to do, I’m scared, I’m scared!” Phil cried hysterically.

“MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!!” Dan yelled.

 _“I’m coming. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_ PJ said.

“Don’t hang up, please, I’m freaking out!”

“Phil you should call an ambulance.”

Phil considered the thought of an ambulance. Dan had clearly expressed how much he didn’t want to be helped, that including not wanting to go to the hospital. If Phil did call an ambulance and forcibly brought him to the hospital, he didn’t even want to think about how Dan would react. He didn’t want to lose the last bits of trust he had with Dan, he wanted to figure out what was wrong with him, he was so close…

“I don’t know, what would they do? What would they do?! He was fine just 10 minutes ago, I don’t understand…” Phil’s voice was starting to get hoarse. “Please just get here…”

“Phil, I’m telling you, call an ambulance!”

“I’M NOT CALLING AN AMBULANCE, NOW WOULD YOU GET THE FUCK OVER HERE PLEASE I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!”

Dan’s body tensed and his mouth systematically shut. He looked straight in front of him before collapsing heavily on his side.

Phil’s mouth hung open and he dropped his phone on the ground.

 _“Phil? What happened? PHIL!”_ He heard.

Phil grabbed Dan’s body and shook him vigorously.

“DAN! DAN!” He exclaimed, even more panicked than before. He put two fingers on his neck and sighed of relief when he noticed there was a pulse. But Dan’s unconscious body was still lying at his feet. He tried slapping his face gently, then gave him full on smacks, but Dan didn’t budge.

His hands shaking, Phil reached for his phone.

“He just fainted…” He exclaimed, out of breath. “He fain-”

But PJ had already hung up.

~

“How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know… I tried helping him, I tried telling him, but he wouldn’t tell me what was really happening…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“Well now they’ll bring him to the hospital and he won’t have a choice, so we’ll know what’s going on.”

“It’s not good, it’s not good…”

“Why are you saying that?”

“You shouldn’t have called the ambulance…”

“Why?”

“He’s not going to be happy…”

“What-”

Dan slowly opened his heavy eyelids. He was lying down on his bed, and the first thing he saw was PJ and Phil at the end of it. He jerked unwillingly and it caught their attention.

“DAN!” Phil exclaimed. “Oh my God, Dan!”

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s neck and hugged him tightly. The light incoming from the window was blinding him and he closed his eyes again, still not understanding the reason for Phil’s hug.

“What’s happening, why is PJ here?” He asked.

But then, he remembered. The memory was so vivid in his mind it was scary. He remembered sliding down the wall, and the pain, the pain so terrible he felt like his flesh was tearing apart, and the voices, all of the voices, so loud, so deafening… And he remembered suddenly all of them stopping at once, the angel and the devil stabbing each other with their own weapons and then collapsing with a peace he had never experienced before. Ambulance.

Dan frantically looked to his right and saw two paramedics making their way in the corridor with a stretcher. Dan pushed Phil and sat up on his bed.

“Why are they here?!” He asked, panicked.

“Don’t you remember anything?” Phil said.

Dan decided not to say he remembered everything.

“No, I’m perfectly fine, though, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Dan, you fainted!” Phil pleaded.

“So what, people faint all the time! I’m perfectly fine, look!”

Dan stood up from his bed. He indeed felt fine.

“They’re just going to do a checkup.” PJ said.

“Why are you here if I just fainted?”

Phil and PJ looked at each other.

“Look, we’re worried for you, alright?” PJ replied. “I know about your depression, Phil told me everything, we just want to help you.”

A rock fell down Dan’s stomach. He gave Phil a poisonous gaze before looking back at PJ.

“Get out.” Dan whispered angrily.

“Excuse me?” PJ said.

“I said GET OUT! NOW!”

PJ looked at Phil with a surprised look before grabbing his coat from the chair and storming out.

“Sir, please, we’ll need you to calm down.” one of the paramedics said.

“I’m not leaving. You two might as well get out too. I’m fine, see? Now please leave me alone.”

“Dan… please…” Phil begged.

“Shut up.” Dan said sternly.

“We’ve had a call saying you were in need of medical attention, if you say you feel fine we will at least do a checkup to be sure you’re alright.”

“I’m telling you I am completely alright. Now thank you but leave.”

The paramedics looked at each other, rolled their eyes and walked away.

“Next time just don’t call us.”

When he heard the front door close, he turned to Phil who hadn’t moved one bit.

“Why did you tell him?” Dan asked calmly, though he was trying to contain his anger.

“Dan… please don’t do this…”

“Why did you tell him?” He repeated, less calmly this time.

“I had to, okay… You freaked me out, I thought you were dying, I didn’t know what to do… I didn’t tell him about the drugs, though… I only told him about the depression and your night strolls…”

There was a long silence.

“I trusted you.”

“Dan… I’m sorry… I didn’t want to-”

“I trusted you…”

“Please, Dan, understand, I was-”

“I TRUSTED YOU!”

Phil froze. His face was introduced to different emotions. He started off sad, like he was almost going to cry, but then it twisted into incomprehension, to finally give a place to anger.

“You always do that.” He said, his voice cracking. “Why do you always have to do that?”

Dan kept staring at him.

“Why do you always act like I’m everything to you, then act like you bloody hate me and blame everything that goes wrong on me?!” Phil exclaimed, tears in his eyes. “Because I don’t know if you noticed, but being over here trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you is pretty fucking tiring, and being constantly let down by a depressed twat that doesn’t want to be helped is bloody dispiriting! I break my bloody mind trying to keep you on tracks, you could at least try to help yourself too. I am tired of doing things for you and getting shit in return.  I have thoughts and feelings too, so if you could be slightly considerate sometimes, it wouldn’t go unnoticed! So if you want to hate me, fine, but make your bloody mind!”

Dan stared at the floor. _“Poison! Toxic!”_

“I just don’t know between you and me who’s the poison anymore.” Dan replied sadly, still looking at the ground.

Phil looked at Dan up and down, and, having enough, he left him behind and locked himself in his room.

Dan sat back down on his bed and put his head on his pillow. His armor of steel was losing pieces every day and he struggled patching it all up. With Phil beating on it with his sledgehammer, it became twice as hard trying to keep it all together.

Dan had to find a way to keep his armor strong and shiny until his pattern was done. The pattern was all he had left. The future… He didn’t even know if the future was beneficial for him anymore… for him, the real him… because Dan, the real Dan, the poor, tiny little awkward and timid Dan, hidden in the depths of himself, knew that the pattern was all or nothing… Because it wouldn’t leave him alone. No, _the other Dan_ , it wouldn’t leave him alone…

He suddenly felt so vulnerable that the fabric of his pillow case was soaked with his silent tears.


	23. Chapter 23

Phil felt like this entire house was covered in eggshells. Every time he put his nose out of his room, he would cut his feet and bleed, and after healing and finding a way through the mess, he would slip and cut himself all over again. The rollercoaster never ended. When he thought it was beginning to get slow, he was already going down the next slope.

After the morning's incident, Phil didn't even dare put his nose out. He was completely confused, hurt and angry. Dan had totally lost it. He had never seen him in this kind of state and he never wanted to again. He didn't know what to do anymore. Nothing he had done worked! All he had managed to do was pick up fights with Dan.

If there was nothing Phil could do here, well he was throwing all of his hopes on their trip to America. Seeing friends and viewers would change his mind and make him relax... at least Phil hoped. He couldn't bear seeing Dan like this anymore. It had gotten to the point where it was actually sad. He was so focused on not wanting help that he hurt himself even more.

America was the answer. Yes. Phil knew it. Also, it was kind of his last resort. He knew if he didn't manage to make him open up over there, back in England everything would be lost. Behind Dan's hard armor, he knew there was something. The glimmer in his eyes was always there, so present yet so subtle. He had tried everything; easy and hard way... nothing. Though, there was still a way to coax Dan into speaking. But Phil would wait until they were on the other side of the ocean to do it. Until their flight tomorrow morning, he would let Dan cool down from their heated argument earlier.

After setting up his alarm to wake up early for the plane the next day, he walked past Dan's closed bedroom door and went to the living room.

_"I told you I would get to the bottom of this. It's not over."_

~

Dan didn't move his head from his pillow from what seemed hours. He hadn't slept and hadn't closed his eyes at all. Tears had simply fallen silently in the most graceful way, not really knowing the reason for their fall until they dried out. He heard Phil moving in the room next door. He heard him coughing as well as the rustling of his bed sheets, the fainted sound of videos he was listening to, the zipping of a suitcase, drawers opening, then closing, loud sighs... Dan spent an immensely long amount of time listening to the simplest things in the other room until his head had risen from the pillow and his body had dragged itself out of the bed.

He felt numb. He approached the mirror to admire himself. He was taken aback slightly when he noticed his purple temples. He looked like he had been beaten up. He placed his hand delicately on the sensitive skin and dragged his finger along the line of the bruises. His throat went dry and his stomach knotted. Dan felt himself scream at the bottom of the black hole. The  _other_  Dan shoved fingers down his throat to shut him up. He stepped a few feet back and built momentum before launching himself head first in the mirror, smashing violently against the glass that shattered with the impact. Dan collapsed on the ground, unconscious as his scalp started bleeding profusely.

Dan jerked back. He touched his scalp nervously. He was relieved to see there was no blood when he brought his fingers back in front of his eyes. He grasped his heart and started breathing heavily. He hadn't had a daydream about himself since he had killed Agana Baldwin. He started panicking slightly. What did that mean? Was  _the other_ trying to tell him something?

A breeze flew into the room and made the hairs on his arm raise up. Dan was dragged away from his thoughts. He walked up to the window to close it, having no idea when he had opened it or why since it was February, and that's only then that he noticed it was pitch black outside, except from the street lights guiding people through darkness.

He hadn't realized how long he had been lying on his bed. His stomach started growling with hunger as his head started aching. He remembered tomorrow morning he and Phil were flying for America. He turned to look at his wardrobe and as he shoved aside the tiny little Dan screaming from the black hole, he walked towards it, threw the clothes out to retrieve his backpack that was hidden at the bottom. He put it on his shoulders and, totally ignoring Phil's room, he walked straight for the front door. 

~

The noise of Vincent's hands colliding together resonated through the whole empty lab. Jesus jerked lightly, looking away from his microscope.

"Well, that's another thing done!" He exclaimed happily. He looked at the watch on his wrist. "Whoa, it's already late. I'm going to be heading home. You should get a break too, J."

Jesus smiled timidly and pointed at the microscope.

"Unfortunately, I'm still not done with this. I'll finish before going anywhere."

"I'm pretty sure your Dad would be wanting you to take a break. You're not nailed to this chair, are you?"

"Vincent, I'm an atheist." Jesus snapped.

"Oi! Alright, calm down! What's wrong with you tonight? A Christian joke never hurt you before!"

Jesus sat back on his chair and folded his arms.

"You're right, sorry..." He apologised.

"Why are you so edgy all of a sudden? Is it that Gift from God thing again?"

Jesus simply gave a brief look over his friend.

"Look, I'm going to repeat this as many times as I need for you to register it: take a break. You're burning out."

"I can't take a break when Alpha is still out there. People are counting on us to stop him."

Vincent rubbed his forehead vigorously.

"Just take it slow then." He said. "I can finish this off for you, go home, have a bath and relax!"

"No, I'm fine, thanks." Jesus replied. "I'll get over it. I might as well be nailed to this goddamn chair. Work relaxes me. Besides, I've got no one home."

Vincent looked down sadly, feeling sorry for making his friend say those words.

"Alright, stay here then. I'm not going to stop you. But don't spend the whole night here! Go sleep before sunrise."

"Sure." Jesus agreed quietly.

Vincent nodded and headed towards the exit.

"Oh and I hope you're still up for our beer night because it's happening this Saturday night. The kids and the wife are out of the house, so it's going to be all ours."

"You make it sound like we're going to have loud butt sex." Jesus pointed out, smirking slightly.

"We might as well do!" Vincent exclaimed, laughing.

"Well, I'll be sure to be there, then!" Jesus sniggered.

Vincent walked back into the room and slowly went in Jesus' direction. When he was only a few feet away, he leaned down gingerly to the level of his face and, closing his eyes, brought his lips closer to Jesus'.

"Alright, come on, off you go, pumpkin pie!" Jesus exclaimed as he pushed Vincent away before they could kiss.

Vincent burst out laughing with his friend. He hadn't laughed like this with him in a long while. He went back to the door and before disappearing, Jesus said sensually and jokingly:

"See you tomorrow, sugar daddy."

As the door shut behind Vincent, Jesus turned back to his sample and continued his work.

~

Middle front door. Left counter. Right table section. Dan spotted the security cameras of the fast food he had stopped in front. Three in total excluding the ones that could be in the toilets. He had been guided to the building that was just in front, and since his stomach had been aching for food, he had stopped there.

He entered the restaurant gingerly, his hood up and his head down to avoid the first camera at the front door. He looked down until he reached the right counter to avoid the second camera, looked directly into the cashier's eyes and ordered his food. The teenage girl noted his order and he received it 5 minutes later. Still carefully looking down, he walked to the left side of the restaurant to sit down the opposite way of the third camera.

As he ate, he observed the building through the window. His next victim was in there. He had had the daydream a few days prior and their face couldn't stop burning his mind. Maybe after all the daydreams about himself dying were just to show how desperately Dan needed to kill.

Phil had accused him of doing drugs. He wasn't half wrong. Killing  _was_  his drug. The thrill of taking away someone's life, of having complete power over them, of choosing whether or not they should live... to play God...

_"This is all in vain..."_

"Focus." Dan whispered to himself. "Now is not the time. This is your greatest work so far. Quest Kadner will eat his fingers."

Dan smirked mischievously. He raised his left hand in the air, making sure the security camera would catch it, and then expanded every single of his fingers. He then balled up his fist to do the same thing again. His smirk grew bigger. He knew Kadner would be pleased.

After eating, Dan threw his rubbish in the bin. He glanced over at the cashier and then counted the slabs that leaded the way through the exit, still avoiding the cameras.

When he was safe in the street, he crossed it and headed towards the building. He tightened his grip around his bag's strap to contain his excitement. This was going to be delightful.

~

The sweat mark was rapidly wiped away with his sleeve. Jesus was finally done with his work and had earned himself a well needed break. He tidied the lab, grabbed his stuff and switched off all of the lights. He pushed the heavy door and felt the breeze of the night whip his face. It was really late now.

As he searched his pockets for his car keys, Jesus stumbled on the wood planks from the old pallet that had been dismantled and thrown in the trash. He never managed to remember not to fall over those.

As he was still on his knees from the fall, Jesus saw feet stopping in front of him. Intrigued to know who it could be, his eyes slowly looked up to the tall figure to finally be introduced with a timid  _"Excuse me..."_

"Can I help you?" Jesus asked politely as he rose from the ground shamefully.

"Uh, well, yes, I would hope so." Dan said with a believable shy tone.

Jesus frowned. This man looked familiar. And what was he doing at this isolated exit of the hospital where only he, Vincent and other forensics used?

"Look, I'm not quite sure I'm the person you want help from right now." Jesus said, just wanting to get in the car and drive home as his nervous manner from earlier had resurfaced and his throat had knotted.

"I might have information about Alpha." Dan announced.

Jesus' eyes opened wide. Well, that was a delicious thing to hear. He nodded.

"Xavier Albert." Jesus introduced himself and showed his fake identity. "Please, tell me everything you know about Alpha and I will make sure it gets to the detective in charge of the case."

"Yes, of course." Dan replied, trying to contain himself.

Jesus analysed the man. He had a black coat and his hood was on his head. He had very brown eyes and hair and a dimple was popping on his right cheek. He had a black backpack hanging on his shoulders and he looked about 20 something. Suddenly, Quest's words echoed in his head. This was the physical description of the faceless suspect. Jesus' body tensed up. It was just a suspect, but if he happened to be the real Alpha, he couldn't let him slip through his fingers.

There was a silence. Jesus waited for the man to speak, but he didn't.

"Weren't you supposed to give me information about Alpha?" Jesus asked, trying to keep his voice as normal as possible.

"Well, I thought you would pull out a notepad to note down what I'm saying." Dan snapped.

Jesus cringed. He pulled out his phone and noted down the man's physical description. If he managed to get enough information out of him, or at least managed to follow him somewhere, he could always transfer them to Quest. And if something happened to him, they would have something to search from.

"Alright, go on now, tell me."

"Well," Dan whispered. "I know he's thinking of recreating something that most people celebrate with chocolate..."

Jesus noted down 'chocolate'. He didn't really know where this was going. He kept his eyes riveted on the man in front of him that, now that he realized, hadn't given a name.

"What do you mean by that?" Jesus interrogated.

"...and bunnies... and eggs..."

Jesus didn't write down those words. Instead, he frowned. He noticed through the bad lighting of a street lamp that the man in front of him had purple bruises on the side of his head. He noted it on his phone. The man's face triggered a fainted memory in his head.

"How did you get that?" He asked, pointing to the bruises with a head movement. "Did you get in a fight?"

"You could say that." Dan said sinisterly.

"Anything else that you can reveal about Alpha that could actually help with the case?" Jesus asked professionally even though he still didn't feel quite good about this.

Emily Fontaine's crime scene emerged in his head. He finally remembered who this man was. He was the curious soul asking what had happened... He was with another guy that looked strangely similar to him. Jesus forced himself to shove the scream down his throat.

"I know that he's closer than most of you might think." Dan spoke with a mysterious tone.

Terrified on the inside, yet keeping his professional calm on the outside, Jesus noted down 'Alpha is in front of me right now'. It was obviously him. After 20 years of working as a forensic and working alongside highly qualified detectives, he knew for sure that killers  _adored_  revisiting their crime scenes. He shivered. He damned himself for opening his notes on his phone instead of his texts. Too late, Vincent knew his password anyway.

"How come?"

Dan smirked. Jesus noticed him stroking something rectangle shaped in his jeans pocket. Jesus knew it was the penknife he and Vincent had identified. He wrote down 'penknife'. There was a long silence in which they both stared intensely at one another. Jesus swallowed hard.

"I don't think Xavier fits you very well,  _Jesus._ " Dan suddenly admitted, grinning broadly.

Jesus instinctively took a step back as the air got stuck in his lungs.

"I don't see what you mean, sir." Jesus replied calmly. "Who is this Jesus you are referring to?"

Dan's smile grew bigger and he stepped forward to gain back the step that was separating them.

"Ah, come on, stop pretending."

Heat rushed to his face as he realized there was no escape. He had known it. He had known it for so long, and he damned himself for being in such denial. Jesus. His name was  _fucking_  Jesus.

"Alpha..." Jesus murmured bravely, finally facing the man he had been running after this whole time.

Dan nodded vigorously.

"Nice cover you got there." Dan complimented sarcastically. "But, in all honestly, did Quest seriously think fake identities would fool me? I'm disappointed. He could've done better."

Jesus was paralyzed. He tried keeping his cool, but inside he was trembling like a sheet. He didn't want to die. He locked his phone and put it back in his pocket. He didn't have anything else to add on it. Alpha didn't seem to matter. What would be said next would only satisfy his own curiosity. He was ready.

"Why are you doing this?" Jesus asked with the calmest tone he could pull.

"Oh!" Dan exclaimed. "Has Quest not figured that out yet?"

"He has his theories." He replied. "But since I already signed my death warrant, I could at least know the actual reason for my death, for the deceased before me and the future to come."

"I love how you pretend there's going to be much more after you." Dan sniggered. "Don't you trust Questy and his trusty detective work?"

"I trust Agent Kadner more than anything, and I know that he will eventually find a way to catch you before you reach the end of your filthy pattern."

"Oh, harsh!" Dan commented. "It's not filth, it is  _art_. To you, it might be just a pile of corpses, but to me, and many others, it's pure art, a form of rebellion, of  _revolution_."

"So that's it is, then?" Jesus exclaimed. "A pathetic desire for unwanted rebellion? A revolution for what, huh? Mister never learnt how to read at school so he thinks spelling out the alphabet with innocent people might help him learn?"

Dan stepped forward and came dangerously close to Jesus' face. Jesus held his gaze, not afraid anymore.

"You didn't get a  _single_  thing!" Dan spat. "I'm trying to free the souls that have been restricted all of this time under such mediocre rules providing them with false hopes of such wanted happiness. But the real happiness is knowing that you're free,  _really_  free. Rule after rule, a rule for a rule, don't do this, don't do that... I'm  _sick_ of it!"

Dan had gotten so incredibly close to Jesus that their noses were pressed against each other.

"You know these anarchist manners won't get you anywhere, right?" Jesus said, not moving one inch from his current position. "The only place you'll get is in jail. Have you thought about that?"

Dan recoiled slightly.

"You're the first one to ever try to knock some 'sense' into me, like you all love to call it." Dan admitted. "But it's called 'perception'. Everyone is so convinced that they're the good and that everything else is bad... Especially your kind. Not everything is perfect in my way of doing things, but at least I know that. I have to make sacrifices. What is there for me in your way of seeing life? That's the problem. Your kind only cares about themselves."

Jesus was speechless.

"Alpha is going to be the symbol of revolution. The God of Free Will."

Jesus didn't see the punch coming. The pain in his nose seized him immediately. He gripped it instinctively and felt the string of blood stain his hands. Before he could even look back at Dan in pure astonishment, he felt another punch right under his chin that propelled him back slightly. He was still wobbling when Dan's fist met with his stomach and he bent down. He had the time to see Dan's knee coming at him but he couldn't dodge it. It hit his already injured nose and he cried out. Dan spread his arms to catch Jesus and throw him on the ground, but he successfully dodged on the side.

He watched Dan wobble forwards and turn around with a smirk.

"Aw, Jesus wants to play it the hard way, I see! I like it rough too!" Dan smiled cheekily.

"You're not going to get yourself out of this so easily!" Jesus said through gritted teeth after spitting the blood that had poured into his mouth.

Dan sneered loudly.

"I hope not! It would be boring otherwise!"

Jesus knew he wasn't getting out of this. He was already dead.

Gathering all of his remaining strength and sparing a thought for Thomas, he clenched his fists, ready to fight back until his muscles couldn't handle it anymore to give Vincent enough material to identify Alpha off of his dead body.

~

Dan had never beaten up a victim before killing them but it was rather thrilling. Blood spilling from his nostrils onto his mouth, if Dan wasn't so envious to kill him, he would've walked up to Jesus and licked the blood right off his tanned skin.

He saw Jesus' fists ball up and he licked his lips excitedly. He stepped forward and punched in Dan's direction, but he dodged. He hit again with his other hand and hit Dan on his temple near his eye. He went for a third time but Dan grasped his arm and twisted it, causing Jesus to howl in pain. He put his foot on his hip and pushed him aside.

Jesus immediately turned back to Dan and launched at him. He tugged at his hair violently, growling in the effort. Dan hissed, grabbing his opponent's wrists to shove him away. He was pulling so hard that when Dan managed to set himself free, he felt hair ripping off his scalp. Jesus smirked.

"Kinky." Dan commented, grinning.

Jesus put his fist in front of him and struck Dan on the lip. It split and started bleeding. Dan stood there for a moment, surprised, and Jesus took this moment to launch himself at him and make him fall backwards.

He straddled him and locked his knees around his body. He put both hands on his face and scratched him as hard as he could. Jesus' grip was tight, but Dan slid his hand down his jeans pocket and switched the blade. He hit his elbow on Jesus' sides, which made him fall on the ground next to him with a low grunt. He straddled him in turn and held up his penknife, licking his lips in pure dementia.

"Game over, Jesus." Dan exclaimed, his eyes flickering with insanity. "The Gift from God has come... to die."

And without anything else, he stabbed his blade into his throat. Jesus' eyes opened in awe and he gurgled through the blood that had gathered in his mouth. Some of it splashed around, staining his pretty tanned skin.

Dan let go of his grip and stood back up. He admired Jesus at his feet, still choking on his own blood and desperately reaching around him for a loving hand.

He set his backpack aside and unzipped it. He dropped the nails he had taken from Guy and Howie's hideout on the ground and snickered. He crouched next to Jesus' agonising face.

Jesus grabbed Dan's ankle flabbily, trying to put himself on his feet, but the only thing he could do was spit his blood and choke. A single tear slid down Jesus' cheek as he looked up to the starry night sky. He spotted Sirius, the brightest star, and closed his eyes. He imagined himself floating towards it gracefully and becoming a part of it, his worries staying far behind him.

"It's time for the crucifixion." Dan's voice resonated from far, far away through his eardrums.

~

The door slammed shut at 1:16 AM. Phil didn't dare move from his bed, so he simply listened to the steps approaching his room. Dan had been gone for exactly 2 hours. They were supposed to leave for their plane in exactly 3 hours. He didn't even know if he had packed his suitcase. He sighed and shoved his head back into his pillow.

 _"It's a whorehouse."_  Phil thought.  _"It has to be. Maybe he's one of the whores?"_

Phil shivered to the thought.

 _"Where the_ fuck _does he go? What does he do and why?"_

Phil was too curious to stay in bed. He had to see in what state Dan was. After this morning, it was fairly obvious that he was going to go wherever he went every night to forget and numb all of his feelings.

He jumped out of his bed and opened Dan's bedroom door without warning. Dan turned around hastily, like he had been caught in the act. Phil noticed his bottom lip was split, swollen and purple. He had scratches on his forehead and right cheek, but they weren't as red as the ones Dan had given Phil a week ago. He also couldn't miss the bruises he had already seen on both sides of his head. He looked really poorly. Yet again, in his eyes, there was the same glimmer that Phil couldn't translate.

"Can I help you?" Dan snapped.

"What happened to your face?" Phil couldn't  _not_ ask _._

"I fell." Dan replied without hesitation.

Phil raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"I just wanted to remind you that we're leaving for the airport in three hours." Phil said.

For a second, Dan looked distant, like he had fallen right back into this morning's trance. Phil stepped forward slowly and put his hand on Dan's shoulder. He jerked and jumped back.

"Okay." He simply replied.

Phil turned around to exit the room, but a question was burning his lips desperately.

"Dan," He spoke very carefully. "I know you don't want me shoving my nose into your things but..."

He took a deep breath.

"Please reassure me that what you're doing out there is legal..."

Dan stood in the middle of his room, burning Phil's retina with his glare. They stayed like this for what seemed forever.

"I have to pack my suitcase." Dan finally said. "You should sleep until we have to go. You'll need it."

And just like that, Dan turned away and pulled out clothes from his wardrobe to pack up. Phil was speechless and his throat knotted. He left the room and, for the first time in his life, a tiny part of himself started to fear the person he shared most of his life with.

 


	24. Chapter 24

The shrill sound of Quest's ringtone pierced his eardrums and made him jerk awake. Dripping in sweat and breathing heavily, he snatched his phone from his bedside table and picked it up.

"Agent Kad-" he began but he was cut by the hurried voice on the other side of the line.

"QUEST! Quest, oh my G-, oh my _fucking_ God..." Quest recognized Vincent's voice.

"Talley? What's wrong?" Quest asked worriedly.

He heard several sobs through the phone. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Quest... Q-Quest..." Vincent whined.

Quest jumped off his bed and gathered clean clothes.

"Vincent? _What's happening?_ " Quest demanded more aggressively this time, a bad feeling growling down his stomach as he threw a shirt over his head.

A gross sob followed by a helpless whimper indicated Quest that this was bad. _Really_ bad. After messily putting on pants, roughly combing his air, rapidly throwing his coat over his shoulders, grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment in a rush, Vincent finally replied.

"You're the first one I called, Quest, please... _oh my God..._ I'm at the hospital...I got to work and... and..." There was a long silence followed by a brief _"shit."_

"Vincent I need you to tell me what happened right now!" Quest stressed, already alerting Wade with his other phone.

"God... It's- oh, _God,_ Quest, it's Je- it's _Jesus..._ "

There was a loud, angry and helpless " _fuck!"_ on Vincent's side of the phone. As Quest sat in his car, he put his head in his hand with distress. He hoped what he thought was happening wasn't really happening.

"Alpha's got Jesus..." Vincent finished in a painful effort to shove a sob down his throat.

A rock hitting the water. That's how Quest's body felt like. He was free falling and his destination was clear: the bottom of the sea. His nostrils filled up with water, and his mouth, and his lungs. He tried swimming up to the surface but gravity kept dragging him deeper and his chest compressed hard against his organs. When he hit the ocean ground, and lay there and observed the few sun beams piercing through the first layer of the clear substance that was slowly drowning him. Failure. Salty failure.

He hung up without adding a word, threw his phone on the passenger seat and hit his hands on the steering wheel violently, screaming vociferously.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! _FUCK!_ " Quest yelled as he struck the dashboard repeatedly. " _FUCK!!"_

He rested his head in his hand, trying to gather his thoughts and collect himself. His phone beeped on the passenger seat and he read Wade's message. _"On my way."_

~

Dan hadn't been this nervous to take the plane before. He knew his acting skills would fool Phil and everyone else by translating calm and innocence, but with the bruises on his face, he _had_ to make himself discreet.

Unfortunately, they were hardly unnoticeable. When he arrived at one of the counters to check in his suitcase, the customs officer couldn't help but ask how he got these bruises. His heart pumped harder, but he stayed calm. He simply replied that he had fell down from high stairs. The officer looked at him suspiciously, then looked down at his passport. She put the sticker on his bag and gave him back his papers.

Inwardly sighing of relief, he walked to the side and waited for Phil. When he was done, he met Dan and asked why it had taken so long for his turn. Dan replied the truth bitterly. Phil didn't add a word.

When they finally got to seat on the plane, Dan immediately put on his headphones and stared out the porthole. He was going to America. He didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he thought it might be a good idea. Let the investigation stir for a while... now that Jesus was dead, they'd be all over the place looking for Alpha... but he'd be long gone.

But on the other hand... No. Dan stopped himself from thinking about it. Or rather, _it_ stopped making him think about it. If he did, he would start feeling nauseous. With a 9 hours flight, he had to stay focus and not think of these thoughts. They had cost him Phil's suspicion and those ugly bruises.

_"You are Alpha... You are the God..."_

Dan smiled to himself when the plane took off, thinking about Quest's reaction when he would wake up and learn the news.

~

The car's door shut violently and Quest sprinted to the morgue's back exit. He noticed there was no one else here yet. When he reached the back, he saw Vincent sitting on the asphalt. His knees were close to his chest and his head was hanging in between his legs, his hands grasping at his hair strongly.

Quest turned his head to where Vincent was looking away from and he brought a hand to his mouth. He thought he was going to be sick.

Jesus' eyes once full of life were empty. They were dark abysses in which you could lose yourself and your sanity. They were so dark in the middle of his tanned face, covered in blood and purple bruises. His hands were both nailed to a horizontal wooden plank, and the same pattern had been done on his feet with a vertical plank. His throat was the bloodiest part. The hole on his neck had poured onto his bare chest all the way to his navel. His head hanging down lazily, Quest could see the numbers "10" and "16" incised on his soft cheeks.

Feeling his heart pinch, Quest diverted his eyes back to Vincent. He jogged up to him and crouched to his level.

"Vincent..?" He asked softly.

Vincent Talley looked up at the detective. His eyes were so sorrowful, so wet and so red that Quest's breath caught in his throat. Since the beginning of his work with the team, he had never seen Vincent with a different emotion than happiness on his face.

"Quest..." he breathed painfully, his lips quivering.

Quest noticed a puddle of vomit not far from where they were. Before Vincent could add anything, he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him sympathetically. Nuzzled in Quest's neck crease, Vincent burst into tears. He tried speaking at the same time, but it made his words incomprehensible.

So many thoughts and emotions were going through Quest's mind that it was all foggy. He just held his sobbing friend as he tried to take in what was all happening.

After a few moments of holding Vincent, Quest heard fainted voices and footsteps. He looked in that direction and saw Wade jogging up to them followed by paramedics with a stretcher. He patted Vincent's back and stood up.

"Quest!" Wade exclaimed, jogging up to him. "Quest, what happened? I called Tucker, they should be here soon."

He threw a glance at Vincent, still in tears on the ground. As a response, Quest simply moved his head in Jesus' direction. Wade turned his head as well.

"Oh, God..." he exclaimed, looking away immediately. "Kadner..."

Wade's face twisted with annoyance. He gestured the paramedics to leave them alone and he stared deeply into Quest's eyes.

"I thought you had all of this under control, Quest..."

"I do, Wade... I..." Quest stuttered.

"Jesus is dead, Kadner!" Wade exclaimed. "How do you have _any_ of this under control!?"

Before Quest could reply, a car's door was shut violently. Tucker's tiny figure approached threateningly towards them, his hat messily put on his head.

"What is this all abo-" Tucker began before he diverted his eyes to Jesus' corpse.

He stared at him intensely. His features twisted with anger the more and more he looked at the deceased. After a long and painful silence, suddenly, very slowly, he turned to Quest.

"How could this have _happened_?" Tucker breathed sternly, squinting his eyes menacingly.

"Agent Essex, I..."

"One of my best bloody forensics was killed because you failed to catch this _fucking_ murderer!" Tucker spat, his face becoming redder. "HOW COULD THIS FUCKING HAPPEN?!"

Tucker stepped forward violently, his face coming close to Quest's. His face was so red you could mistake his anger for a sunburn. Quest was paralyzed.

"YOU GAVE ALL OF OUR FUCKING TEAM FAKE NAMES!" Tucker yelled, gesticulating animatedly. "WHY THE FUCK IS JESUS HARRIGAN DEAD?!"

Quest simply looked into his tiny little menacing eyes. His mouth was uptight listening to the insults Tucker Essex was dumping on him.

"This is all your fault, this is MI5's fucking fault!" He continued, waving his chubby accusing index in Quest's face. "We give you a fucking job and you hang around, watching people die not doing _shit_! You sacrificed people for God's sake, who does that?!"

"It was necessary to the progress of the case, it hel-"

"YOU SACRIFICED A HUMAN LIFE, KADNER!" Tucker uttered. "IT DIDN'T DO SHIT! ALPHA HAS KILLED 10 FUCKING PEOPLE, INCLUDING ONE OF MY GUYS, AND ALL WE GOT IS A HAIR AND A FUCKING SHOE PRINT! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!? WAS THAT ALL FUCKING NECESSARY?!"

"Agent Essex, I'm doing the best I can to solve this case, we all are..."

"YOU'RE BLOODY NOT!" Tucker pointed at Jesus. "Look what your 'efforts' have done!" He then pointed Vincent.

"It's a part of the job whether you like it or not." Quest replied coldly.

Tucker was so red that it looked almost cartoonish. He stepped forward and pushed Quest aggressively. He wobbled backwards, astonished. Tucker, unable to handle so much anger, gathered his strength and punched in Quest's direction.

"Alright, that's enough." Wade said sternly.

Pain stung his lips. He delicately touched them and felt blood stain them. Fuming with rage, Quest pushed Tucker back violently. After finding his balance, Tucker launched himself at Quest, his fists trying to reach his face.

"I said enough!"

Tucker hit Quest's eyebrow and split it open. He tried to push him away again, but Tucker grasped his throat and squeezed firmly. Quest inhaled sharply, feeling the air getting stuck in his throat.

He felt hands grab his arms and after a moment that seemed endless, the cold hands choking him set him free. When he finally looked back up after catching his breath, he saw Dallas and Wade holding Tucker back, and Zarah holding him back.

"Enough, you two!" Zarah shouted. "That's already enough stuff we have to deal with, there's absolutely no need for this!"

She released Quest reluctantly. He wiped the blood off his face and simply nodded at her. She turned to Jesus and closed her eyes. He could see her breathing deeply to keep herself from panicking. Dallas went straight to Vincent, not even able to look at Jesus' dead and mutilated body.

"Essex, secure the perimeter." She ordered.

Tucker was about to protest, but he followed her instructions instead.

"Dallas, get your camera." She commanded. "Start working."

Zarah pulled her instruments out of her back pocket. Taking a sharp breath and gathering her courage, she approached the corpse and started analysing.

"What was it you were saying about Alpha's pattern at the last reunion?" She asked as she crouched, interested in a blood stain near the cross.

Quest helplessly looked at Wade, but he immediately turned away and walked up to Vincent who was still sitting on the ground.

Quest knew the investigation had to go on no matter what.

"Alpha follows religious stories to complete his murders." He explained again.

"Alright." She nodded. "Number 9 on his pattern was the Gift from God, as Jesus mentioned..."

Zarah looked distant for a moment. She stared into Jesus' dead eyes sorrowfully.

"Gift from God was the Christ's birth."

"And now we have his death." Quest finished.

Zarah stood back up and scratched the back of her head. Jesus' clothes had been neatly folded next to the cross. The only thing still covering him was his underwear. Zarah slid her fingers in her gloves and grabbed Jesus' coat. She searched through the pockets and pulled out his wallet.

"He had his fake ID." She commented. "Xavier Albert. I don't understand, Jesus was clever enough not to give his real name, why was he killed?"

For the first time in his career, Quest's heart pinched at the word 'killed'. He briefly looked at the deceased.

"Perhaps Alpha knew him. Or he had seen him before..."

There was a silence. Zarah massaged her forehead and put the coat back down. She glanced over at Vincent and Wade. He was helping him get up. Vincent looked so weak and fragile.

"We're going to have to get a new forensic on the case..." Zarah said sadly.

Quest saw Vincent and Wade walking in their direction. Vincent raised his head and made eye contact with Zarah. She walked the distance separating them and hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry, Vince..." She murmured, caressing the back of his head.

"He was supposed to come over for a beer this weekend..." Vincent replied, his voice trembling.

Zarah let go of the embrace and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"You should go back home." She recommended. "Get some rest. We'll call Summer, she can replace you today and we can probably affiliate you with a different case..."

Vincent stepped back and Zarah's hands fell off his shoulders. His face twisted with disgust and anger. His red and puffy eyes were threateningly staring into hers.

"There's no fucking way I'm going home." He said, outraged.

"Agent Talley, I think it would be best if you went home." Wade intervened calmly. "You're not in the right set of mind to be working effectively."

"I'm not _fucking_ going anywhere!" He repeated aggressively. "My best friend just died, I'm not just going to walk off on him!"

"Vincent..." Zarah pleaded. "It's not a good idea..."

"I'M NOT LEAVING!" He screamed, stepping forward menacingly.

Zarah, Wade and Quest all froze. Tucker, who had heard the scream, walked up to them with intrigued eyes.

"I'm going to stay here, we're going to bring him inside and I'm going to analyse him." He whispered through gritted teeth, tears sticking to his cheeks. "Jesus knew he was going to die, and he's- he was a forensic. He knows how this works. Jesus wouldn't have died without leaving us clues to get this son of a bitch. This isn't his type. If something happens, he goes full on. I want to be the one honoring him."

He turned to Quest and looked deeply into his eyes.

"We're going to get Alpha. I don't want Jesus' death to be in vain."

Quest nodded uncomfortably.

~

As soon as they landed, they drove to the hotel. After checking in, Phil hastily dragged Dan to their room. Dan didn't really understand why he was so eager to get there, because, really, Dan just wanted to check out the pool.

When they got in, Dan didn't have the time to look around their room that Phil sat him down on the sofa.

"Wow, what's the rush?" Dan exclaimed.

"What are we going to do with your bruises?"

Dan was surprised.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Your bruises. What are we going to do about them?" Phil repeated with a serious tone, hands on his hips.

Dan was taken aback.

"I'm not following..."

"You don't want to tell me how you really got the new ones, fine, that's your choice, but I'm going to tell you this: they're not subtle. So, unless you want to be asked by every single person at Playlist 'what happened to you', we should do something about them."

"Whatever, I guess you're right." He replied, caressing one of his bruises. "What do you suggest?"

Phil looked at Dan with awe.

"What is it?" Dan wondered.

"No, sorry, it't just-" He stammered. "It's just... It's just that I didn't think you would accept, so I haven't really thought this through further..."

Dan chuckled.

"I guess I could ask a girl some foundation?" Phil proposed. "That would work?"

"Yeah." Dan agreed. "You can ask Louise when she arrives."

Phil nodded happily. He sighed.

"Sorry about the rush earlier..." Phil apologised. "I just wanted to make sure nobody saw you. You know, to make sure rumors don't get started."

"Don't worry." Dan replied. "You're doing this for my own good. I know. Got it."

He winked at Phil. He scoffed.

"Now can we check out the pool?"

~

After checking out the quite impressive pool, Dan and Phil returned to their hotel room and took a nap. It was still early so they waited for the others to arrive through sleep.

They got woken up by a text from Louise telling them she had arrived. She invited them to join her and the others at the hotel bar.

When they got there, there wasn't much unknown people. They spotted Louise sitting at the bar chatting with someone. They approached her. She greeted them with a warming smile, but it faded lightly when she turned to Dan.

"What happened to you?" She exclaimed, worried.

"Oh, nothing." He replied casually. "I fell down the stairs."

She nodded unconvincingly, her eyebrows furrowed. She hugged him and someone sitting at a table called out his name, so he went to sit with them. After hugging Phil, she gestured him to sit down.

"So, how have you been?" She asked. "It's been a while since we've last seen each other!"

"Yeah, too long." Phil agreed. "And, uh, frankly..."

Phil glanced at Dan sitting and laughing at a table with other people.

"I've been better." Phil finished, forcing a smile.

He ordered a drink. Louise pouted.

"What's wrong? Is it Dan's thing on his face?" She giggled uncomfortably. "What is that all about?"

Phil sighed. He took a sip of his drink he had just gotten from the barmaid.

"Phil, love, you look really upset." She commented calmly. "You can talk to me..."

He moistened his lips.

"Please don't tell him I told you this..." Phil whispered, throwing glances in Dan's direction to make sure he wasn't listening. "But I can't keep it to myself or else I'm going to blow up..."

She nodded and got closer to listen carefully.

"I don't know what's gotten into him lately..." Phil explained, keeping his voice as low as he could. "He's been acting so strange..."

"How come?" She asked.

Phil explained his night strolls and the injuries he kept finding on him, including the recent bruises on his face. But, like he did with Pj, he stopped himself at that and didn't mention the drugs or anything else.

"At first I thought he was depressed, but I think it's more than that..."

"Wow..." was all Louise managed to say. She glanced at him. "Well, I think depression might be a good explanation..."

"Yes, but depression makes you less willing to do things, it doesn't stimulate you to act strangely?"

"Maybe it's his way to cope?" She suggested. "Has he ever told you what he does when he goes out?"

"Not a single time." Phil affirmed. "No matter what I do, he doesn't want to tell me and he either gets aggressive or start crying if I get too persistent..."

Louise sighed sadly.

"I want to help him, I really do, but I don't know what to do anymore..." Phil admitted.

Louise put her hand on Phil's knee.

"You know, Phil, sometimes, some people can't be helped."

There was a silence.

"But I hope things get better, though. If you want I could talk to him, perhaps. I'll be glad to try and help-"

"No." Phil cut her off. "No, please, whatever you do, don't."

"Why?"

"Louise, please, listen to me. Dan is in a bad place. And he doesn't want people to get in his head. Trust me, I've tried it... and it's not pretty. Dan is not himself. If he knows I talked to you about it..."

Phil thought about the incident with Pj the day before.

"He wouldn't be happy. Oh no, not at all."

Phil swallowed a big gulp of his drink.

"Alright... If you think that might be better this way." Louise accepted. "But, still, if you need my help in any way, call me."

Phil nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem. Is there anything I can do right now or?"

"Well, actually..." Phil said. "Do you have some foundation I could borrow?"


	25. Chapter 25

Reluctantly, Quest walked away from the crime scene with Wade on his heels. He had advised him to go for now and keep his theories for the meeting the next day. Quest knew mostly everyone in their team blamed him almost entirely for Jesus' death, and so staying there would only make things worse.

Even though other people's opinions of him had never mattered, Quest could feel the pressure weighting on his shoulders. He knew he had failed to stop Alpha, and his inability to do so had not only cost 10 people's lives, but it included the life of someone he knew personally. Wade wasn't speaking, but he knew he had also dropped in his esteem.

When he got to the street, he analysed his surroundings. He was starting to know Alpha, his way of doing things, his way of thinking. He didn't have to think twice and he headed to the restaurant directly in front of the hospital. Wade still following him, he got in and asked for the manager. When she arrived, he showed her his badge and immediately asked for the videos from the security cameras. Wade still hadn't talked, but Quest didn't care.

When the manager left them alone, Quest sat on a chair and viewed the videos silently. Quest had to watch the whole tape from yesterday night since he hadn't been given an approximate time of death. Finally, after an hour of silence, he saw the same black hooded man enter the restaurant, carefully hiding from the cameras. He ordered food and ate it. Suddenly, Quest saw him raise his hand with five fingers all well expanded. He balled it up then did the same thing again. Quest clenched his teeth so hard he felt the muscles in his jaw sting with pain.

Alpha then took his rubbish, threw them out and left, still avoiding the eye of the cameras. Still without a word, Quest made himself a copy and left without thanking the manager.

When they got out, Quest had had enough. He stopped walking abruptly and turned to Wade in a swift movement.

"Alpha is playing a game with me," he said.

"What do you mean?" Wade asked.

"Don't you see it, Wade?" Quest exclaimed. "Alpha is playing a game with _me._ He knows me somehow."

"Why do you think that?"

Quest sighed angrily.

"Alpha always hides his face from the cameras. He knows where the cameras are, but he doesn't avoid them. If he really didn't want me to find him or know a part of him, he wouldn't do his crimes out in the open. He likes being watched. In this footage, he raised his hand twice to the camera. He showed me ten fingers. He was about to kill Jesus, the tenth victim! He saw through my ruse, Wade! I gave you all fake identities and I gave Jesus a name that wasn't in the pattern, yet he was still murdered! Alpha wants to play with me, this is all a game to him! I gave him an opportunity and he took it!"

Wade looked at Quest longingly, his eye twitching dangerously.

"Are you trying to tell me you used Jesus Harrigan as bait?"

"What..?" Quest exclaimed. "No... N-No I didn't... Of course I didn't..."

"Kadner!"

"I swear, Wade!" Quest uttered. "If he got this identity it was a coincidence..!"

"Kadner," Wade said with a calmer tone that wasn't reassuring, though. "Stop lying to me. You knew, deep down, that this was going to happen, didn't you? You knew he was going to come after Jesus because, like you just told me, you knew he is playing a game with you. You knew Jesus was going to die!"

Quest looked at his feet, defeated. Wade scoffed and took a step back.

"I thought you knew better than that, Kadner."

"If we don't play, we'll pay." Quest whispered.

"We've already paid for your mistakes, Kadner!" Wade spat. "A forensic is dead! And nine innocent people are as well! Playtime is over! If we keep going, he'll get through it all and he'll run away!"

"See, but that's another thing!" Quest pointed out. "The way Alpha acts shows how he thinks. I don't even need my degree in psychology to figure that out! Alpha _wants_ to get caught. Not now, not yet. But _after_ he's done. He wouldn't be giving us so many clues and risking to reveal himself on cameras if he didn't want to end up in our hands. I already said it, he thinks he's a god. His own God. By doing this, he's looking to expand his 'religion' and wants people to praise him. Praise him for whatever he is killing for..."

Quest stopped. He gasped. "Oh my God..." he whispered. "That's it!"

"What?" Wade asked.

"That's it! That's why he's killing!"

"What is it?!" Wade stressed.

He grabbed Wade by the shoulders.

"In the Bible, there are three types of freedom; circumstantial freedom, natural freedom and acquired freedom. Circumstantial freedom is a freedom from coercion or restraint, which was given to the Israelite slaves. Natural freedom is a freedom inherent in all people. It is humans possessing the free choice of the will. Acquired freedom is the freedom that allows you to live as one ought to live. The Bible states that no one is free for obedience and faith until they are freed from sin's dominion."

"What does freedom have to do with anything?" Wade wondered.

"It's everything, Wade!" Quest exclaimed. "Alpha has been killing according to religious stories. By considering himself as a God, he gives himself importance, a role. Alpha considers people as the slaves. They have the circumstantial freedom, which is the base of overall freedom, and, of course, natural freedom. But still, Alpha believes they are still under sin's dominion. _We_ , the police, are the dominion. _We_ represent the sins. We stop the people from doing them and if they do them, they'll be punished. By _us_! Alpha wants to give them the Acquired Freedom. He wants to stop them from being slaves to sin. That's why he's playing a game with me and that is why he is killing so heartlessly; he wants people to be free from _us,_ the rules, the _sin's dominion."_

"He's setting an example..." Wade finished. "But what kind of God praises sins?"

There was a pause.

"A psychotic, twisted one." Quest said.

~

Waffles and pancakes were what helped Dan and Phil wake up from their jetlagged body. They had gone out for breakfast with Louise and a bunch of other friends. Phil had carefully taken the time to apply some of Louise's foundation on Dan's face. To his surprise, this thing worked pretty well. It now looked like Dan only had a sunburn.

The few people that were with them at the bar yesterday wondered why Dan didn't have his bruises anymore, which they said were "badass" but "a bit painful looking". Dan didn't look willing to reply, so Phil answered the simple way: "So people don't talk."

Dan shivered on the seat to his right. Phil didn't mention it but frowned. Dan didn't look very well. He seemed reserved and absent. He was a bit pale, but that was mostly because of the makeup.

"How is he?"

Phil jerked. Louise, sitting to his left, had whispered delicately into his ear.

"I don't know, he didn't talk much this morning." Phil replied subtly. "Still isn't, honestly."

"Poor thing..." She pouted. "At least the foundation did a great job!"

Phil nodded. Louise took a bite of her pancakes and raised her voice so Dan could hear her.

"So we're going to Universals today, are you guys coming?"

Phil glanced at Dan. He smirked lightly.

"Of course!" Phil replied.

Dan, which didn't look very willing to go, gave Phil a threatening look. He responded with the biggest smile he could pull.

Phil's plan to make Dan talk was still stewing in his brain. If he wanted to coax Dan into speaking, he had to tire him out first. That would make him more vulnerable. Universals would do the job on top of the jetlag.

Dan really didn't want to go to Universals. Since they had landed, he had been thinking about the thoughts. _Those_ thoughts. And he didn't feel very good. The only way to repress the thoughts were to continue the pattern, to prove himself that what he was doing was for something worth it in the end. He couldn't kill in Universals!

He pushed his plate away from him and mumbled to Phil that he was going back to the hotel room and that he should come and get him when they would leave.

"Okay..." Phil stuttered, taken aback.

When Dan was out of sight, Louise hit Phil's shoulder with her hand.

"Are you kidding me?!" She exclaimed. " _Okay_ " she mimicked Phil's voice. "You're just going to let him walk off on his own like that?"

"What do you want him to do? We're in America. He can't go where he usually goes in the UK, can he?"

"Maybe, but he can _do_ whatever the hell he does when he goes out whether he is in the UK or in America, can he?"

"Oh shit." Phil exclaimed. "What should I do?!"

"Just go!" Louise pushed him out of his chair. "Don't let him out of your sight!"

Phil nodded and got out the restaurant as Dan walked in their room. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his breath heavy. Panic was seizing him again.

_"People will love you!"_

_"People will despise you..."_

"No..." Dan whispered, grabbing his head.

_"This is all for revolution!"_

_"This is all in vain..."_

"No... stop..." Dan murmured, digging his nails into his flesh.

_"What about Phil..?"_

_"Phil is poison! Toxic!"_

_"Phil is the remedy..."_

"Leave me alone!" Dan exclaimed, running to the bedroom.

_"Alpha is dead..."_

_"Alpha is NOT dead!"_

_"You will rule the world!!"_

"SHUT UP!" Dan yelled.

The voice stopped. Dan opened his eyes. He stood up from the ground he had just melted on. He looked around him and waited to see if the voice would come back. It didn't.

Sighing in relief, he entered the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had managed to chase the voice away for now, but he knew it would come back. America triggered the voice inside his head, and America was everywhere right now. He knew it wouldn't shut up until he killed someone. That would definitely happen.

To calm himself down, he thought of his past victims. He thought of the blood, he thought of the wounds, he thought of Jesus and the bruises he had left on his body, he thought about Quest... Oh! Quest. He smiled at himself in the mirror. He firmly grabbed his cock through the fabric of his jeans, still staring into his own eyes. He giggled at how hard he already was. That would definitely relax him.

He hastily took off his shirt and caressed his chest, his hand still squeezing himself. He started unzipping his jeans, still thinking about endless rivers of blood, but stopped when Phil appeared in the door frame.

Surprised, confused and frozen, they stared at each other for a few seconds. Dan then took his hand off himself and swiftly zipped back his jeans. He noticed Phil's eyes divert down his body.

"Have you never heard of knocking?!" Dan exclaimed, covering his bare chest with his shirt.

"The... The d-door was wide open..." Phil stammered.

Dan slammed the door.

Phil, still standing in the door, turned around and collapsed on the bed. He heard the shower start running. He knew this was going to be a cold one for Dan. He took his phone out of his pocket and texted Louise.

_"I might have taken 'don't let him out of your sight' too literally."_

~

"What did you mean you might have taken 'don't let him out of your sight' too literally?" Louise whispered in Phil's ear when Dan was far away in front of them with the others.

"Forget it." Phil replied. "He just went up for a shower."

Louise frowned, unconvinced.

"What is it? You saw him naked?" She asked, grinning cheekily.

"No!" Phil answered quickly.

"Like you haven't before..." Louise continued, her grin growing bigger.

"Louise, stop!" He insisted. "I said forget it."

"Yeah, whatever." She laughed to herself. Phil sighed.

"What are we going to do?" He said. "What if he's like this for the whole of Playlist? It's great that we can hide his bruises but if he walks around with a grouchy face for the next days people are going to talk anyways!"

"Oh, I don't think we'll have to worry. A lot of us are great at faking." She smiled and winked.

Phil didn't really know how to take Louise's comment, so he brushed it off.

Dan, which was at the front with the others but wasn't listening to what they were saying, was trying to compose himself. Repressing the thoughts was the only thing he could do while he was at Playlist and it drained his energy. A headache was already hitting him, and going in rollercoasters was the last thing he wanted to do. But, as he told himself when he had begun the pattern, he had to stay undercover. That meant doing the things he did usually.

When they finally got there, Dan forced himself to go on the first rollercoaster. His mind was so focused on not letting Alpha show that he didn't even realized he had been on a ride. Though, when he got off, the pain in his skull had simply increased.

Dan managed to go on two more rides with his friends, but after the last his head was throbbing so badly that he couldn't even see properly. He stepped out of the cart and wobbled towards Phil.

"Ready for another one?" Phil asked excitedly.

"No I feel like there are a thousand drills inside my head..." Dan moaned, holding his head.

Louise walked up behind Phil and put her hand on his shoulder, winking impishly.

"I'm feeling quite dizzy myself. You guys go on, Dan and I will take a little break." She said, grabbing Dan by the arm and walking away.

"Don't talk to him about the thing!" Phil mouthed.

"Of course not..." Louise mouthed back sarcastically.

Phil squinted his eyes. He really didn't want Louise talking to Dan about the _thing_. The others dragged him to another ride before he could follow them and make sure she kept her mouth shut.

~

"There you go, love." Louise handed Dan the second ice cream cone she was holding. "Hopefully this will ease your headache a bit."

"Thanks." Dan muttered. He licked his treat lazily.

"So, are you excited to meet people?" Louise broke the silence.

Dan bit the tip of his ice cream slowly and rubbed his forehead. Louise frowned, still waiting for his answer.

"So?" Louise asked awkwardly. "Are you?"

Dan ignored her again.

"Earth to Daniel..." She crooned.

"What..?" He asked with croaky voice.

"Are you alright?" She asked more seriously.

He pointed to his head. "Terrible headache."

"Yeah, I get that," she said. "But it's just you seem kind of absent."

"It's just kind of hard to focus right now."

"Focus on what?"

"Focus on anything!" Dan snapped. "Sorry..." He apologised immediately after.

"Alright, well, just take it easy. Eat your ice cream, you'll feel better soon. I hope you won't be like this for the next days, though. Would be a shame."

"Mmh." Dan mumbled.

"Also we're in America. We can take things easy! Go by the pool, see our American friends, and take in some well needed vitamin D..."

Dan shifted in his seat.

"You know what the best thing about being in America is?" Louise said after a lick of her ice cream. "Not having to hear about this bloody Alpha thing."

Dan jerked his head up at Louise. Had she really mentioned Alpha?

"Alpha?" Dan asked convincingly.

"You know, that serial killer they constantly blabber about on TV?" She explained. "I am literally so terrified, this kind of shit gets to me. Murderer that kills in alphabetical order? Ha! No thanks."

Dan's right eye was twitching rhythmically. The corner of his mouth was subtly stretched.

"Yes. I suppose it's great to be far from the things that you fear." Dan simply replied.

Somehow, his headache had eased up pretty well in a matter of seconds. He continued eating his ice cream, not listening to what Louise had to say.

"-ping. Dan!"

"What?" He felt something cold drip down his hand.

"I said your ice cream is dripping!" Louise exclaimed, handing him a paper towel. "Would've helped if you were listening."

He took he towel and wiped himself. His friend sighed.

"I know I already asked yesterday..." Louise spoke carefully. "But are you sure you got your bruises by falling down the stairs?"

Dan glanced at her. Unconsciously, he hid slid his free hand under the table to hide his knuckles.

"Pretty sure, yes." He lied.

"It just seems a bit much for innocent stairs." She dared to add.

Dan considered her. Was she analysing him? Had Phil been talking to her? He clenched his teeth, bitter.

"They were hard stairs." He snapped a bit too aggressively.

"Alright, just wanted to make sure you hadn't gotten yourself into something you'd regret."

Louise bit the inside of her lip. She knew she had said too much. She noticed Dan's threatening look and almost swallowed her ice cream whole.

"I'll go get another one." She laughed nervously.

~

"Who's ready for another ride?" Dan screamed when he saw his friends approaching.

"Well, we were thinking of taking a lunch break and then we could go back after." One of them said.

"Nah-huh. We're doing one right now!" Dan exclaimed. He pointed to a rather tall rollercoaster. "Let's do that one."

And he started walking towards it. The others were confused but shrugged and followed him. Phil turned to Louise who was looking rather sheepish.

"What did you do? Why does he look angry?"

"I... Uh..." Louise tried to explain. "I might or might have not slipped a word about his bruises..."

"Louise! I asked you not to talk about it!" Phil scolded.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She apologised. "I couldn't help it! He looked so bad I had to know more..."

Phil sighed and brought a hand to his face.

"Just don't bring up anything anymore, okay?" He ordered. "Or else it'll will come right back to me!"

She nodded vigorously. He glanced at Dan and sighed again.

"He probably needs a fix..." He whispered to himself. "He wants the rush of the roller coasters... Fuck!"

"The rush of the rollercoasters?" Louise repeated. "What do you mean he needs a fix?"

Phil turned to Louise and looked at her deeply in the eyes.

"I didn't say anything and you keep your mouth shut, are we clear?" He told through gritted teeth.

Louise nodded, scared by Phil's aggressive tone.

~

After a ridiculous amount of rollercoaster rides and a few sick friends, Phil, Dan, Louise and the others headed back to the hotel. After eating dinner together, a guy in their group invited everyone over to his hotel room. Dan accepted immediately when the guy mentioned the mini-bar.

Phil was starting to get worried. The adrenaline from the rollercoasters hadn't been enough for Dan to feel better. He knew booze would've been his second hand option. He didn't want him to abuse of it, especially since his plan wouldn't work if Dan was so pissed he couldn't think.

Though he followed the group to the room. He accepted a beer and sat back in a corner with Louise, observing Dan from afar.

"Look, love..." Louise broke the silence with a soft voice. "I feel like there are things about him you are not telling me."

Phil bit his lip. He took a sip of his beer, deciding to ignore Louise's comment. She sighed.

"I know you said I shouldn't try to help." She continued. "But I don't think it's fair for you to put such a weight on your shoulders. Dan doesn't look fine, at all. I've never seen him like that and, no offence, but I don't think keeping him to yourself to try and fix him will help much. He needs professional help, he-"

Phil dropped his beer on the table and grabbed Louise by the shoulders. He looked at her straight in the eyes and spoke in a serious tone.

"Dan doesn't _want_ help. Dan doesn't want people to know he's not fine. Dan is living in his own little world and the only person he's letting peek at the door is _me._ "

"But how would you know if he hasn't spoken to anyone else but you-" She began but Phil cut her.

"Pj found out about it two days ago. Dan was so angry he wouldn't have hesitated to beat the shit out of him. Now please Louise, stay _out_ of this. I beg of you."

She shifted in her seat and her face twisted with uneasiness when Phil's hands dropped from her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." She apologised.

"It's okay. If you want to help, just distract him. The less he thinks about what he does, the better it is."

She nodded and grinned.

"Also if you could help me keep track of the beers he ingests that would be great." He added.

Louise agreed.

An hour later, Phil and Louise stopped Dan from taking the shots that had been offered to him.

"Hey! What's up with that?" Dan exclaimed with a slurred voice.

"You've had six beers already." Phil explained. "I think that's enough, don't you?"

"No, six is fine!" Dan replied. "I just want a few shots, come on, Phil, I know you want some too..."

"Dan, if you get too drunk you're not going to be able to survive the whole first day of Playlist." Louise reminded him.

"I'm not even drunk!" He screamed. "If you would let me take this shot perhaps I would be and then your argument would be valid!"

"That's enough!" Phil exclaimed. He pointed the shots and looked at the guy who was offering them to his friend. "Take them away from him." He grabbed Dan's arm firmly and he dragged him out of the room, with Louise following close behind.

With Dan protesting all the way, they finally reached their own hotel room. Phil unlocked it and Louise helped him sit Dan down on the sofa.

"Alright. Thanks for your help. I'll take it from here." Phil thanked.

"Great, see you tomorrow then." She smiled and waved goodbye.

"I'm not drunk!" Dan screamed. His tone translated disappointment more than persuasion.

Dan indeed didn't look extremely drunk, to Phil's relief. His plan would work.

_The final plan._

"Let's say you're maybe a five- five and a half on a scale from one to ten." Phil said, sitting down next to Dan.

"I'm not drunk..." Dan repeated with more sorrow this time.

"Hey, hey..." Phil comforted. "Why are you so sad about it? Isn't that a good thing?"

Dan's head flopped onto Phil's shoulder.

_The final plan._

"It's awful..." He drawled.

"What's awful?" Phil asked softly.

Dan's head was a bit fuzzy, but it didn't stop the _voice_ from whispering him to shut up. He was going to open up to Phil... the _voice_ wouldn't let him. He knew getting drunk and feeling numb would stop the _voice_ from hammering his skull with its words. But he wasn't drunk enough! He just wanted to let it all out...

_"This is all for revolution!"_

_"This is all in vain..."_

_"Phil is poison! Toxic!"_

_"Phil is the remedy..."_

Dan slapped his temple with his left hand and closed his eyes. He kept his mouth shut as the voice commanded.

Phil sighed. He knew trying to make him talk was worthless when he wasn't distracted.

_The final plan._

"You're doing fine without the drugs, Dan." Phil pointed out. "Don't stop yourself at getting drunk to get the feeling back..."

Dan's head suddenly jerked up and he swiftly stood up from the sofa. He scoffed as he walked away.

"Can we, for just a _minute_ stop talking about this, Phil, please?!" He exclaimed angrily. "Drugs here, drugs there, night stroll on the side, depression on the other, some bruises on top..."

Phil slowly stood up in turn and walked up to face Dan.

_The final plan._

"How about you _fucking_ stop! How about you realize that problems and people are two different things? How about you stop focusing on my _problems_ and perhaps focus on _me_?!"

**_The final plan._ **

Without even thinking about it, Phil crashed his lips onto Dan's. He kissed him ferociously, not letting Dan protest by splitting his lips apart and pushing his tongue in. To his delight, Dan melted into the kiss and accepted what was given to him.

Phil strongly grabbed Dan by the waist, turned him around and shoved him into the wall. He rammed his mouth on Dan's again, crawling his hand down to his crotch and palming him through his jeans. Dan breathed sharply at the contact. He quivered when Phil's lips traveled down his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his free and soft hand made its way up under his shirt. His touch sent shivers down Dan's spine. He felt his skin crawl at all the sensations seizing him at the same time.

Phil's hand under his shirt caressed the skin gently, playing softly with his stiffened nipples. He suddenly grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pushed it up. Dan helped him get it off and squealed when his bare back touched the cold plaster wall.

Phil's lips kissed down Dan's chest and stopped where his jeans began. He unfastened his belt quickly and pulled down his jeans and his underwear in one fast and elegant move. Without even looking up at Dan, Phil grabbed his half hard cock and started sucking on the tip without warning. Dan grabbed his hair strongly, shoving a strangled moan down his throat. Phil worked his hand down the shaft delicately as he massaged Dan's balls, satisfied with the ridiculous noises that emitted from his mouth.

Phil felt Dan harden. He then proceeded to lick the length of his cock before taking him fully inside his mouth. The warmth around Dan's cock made him groan as he tugged harder on Phil's hair.

Phil wanted his plan to last for as long as it could, to build Dan up the most he could and then not make him come. He wanted him to feel the sensations for so long he would beg Phil to make him come... he wanted Dan to be distracted for as long as possible.

Phil grabbed Dan's ass with both hands and pushed himself deeper onto his cock. Dan gasped when the tip of his cock felt the tightness of Phil's throat. Phil ignored his gag reflex and held on like this until he felt Dan's cock was hard enough. When he finally let go, Dan was panting. Phil stood up sensually and smashed his lips once more onto Dan's, kissing him languorously as he eagerly led him to the bed. He pushed him down roughly and commanded with a self confidence that he aspired to have outside of sex:

"On your front."

Dan obeyed and exposed his ass to Phil. After taking off his shirt and throwing it over his shoulder, Phil climbed onto the bed and caressed Dan's inner thighs, gaining a stifled moan from his lips. He placed Dan's legs so he was on his knees and gently grabbed his waist. Dan took a sharp breath when he realized what would happen next.

Gingerly, Phil leaned in and flicked his tongue at Dan's hole. His hips jerked with pleasure, but Phil restrained his movements with his tight grip on them. He swirled his tongue around, sending several shivers down Dan's spine. He pushed it in gently and Dan gasped, pulling at the bed sheets. Phil pushed his tongue deeper and Dan broke into a loud moan. He smirked.

He let go of Dan's hip, still swirling around his entrance, to finally push his finger in. Dan moaned audibly and swore under his breath. He grasped his cheek and parted his legs further to leave Phil an easier access. He pumped his finger faster, curling it to earn more ridiculous sounds from Dan. He then, without saying a word, slid in another which caused Dan to push against them, eager for more. As he worked Dan's hole, Phil leaned in and kissed Dan's lower back tenderly and felt his skin crawl. Phil put his lips on Dan's waist and started to suck on the skin. Dan's body jerked and he let out a long and low moan. Phil stopped sucking. It generated a disappointed groan from the other. Phil grinned. With his mouth still breathing hot air onto the sensitive skin, he murmured sensually:

"Where do you go when you go out at night?"

And he continued sucking onto the skin of Dan's hip. For a moment, Phil thought Dan wouldn't buy it and would get angry and ask for all of this to stop. But to his delight, he moaned and opened his mouth.

"I go h-here and..." He sighed in content when Phil slid in a third finger. "I go here and- here and t-there... Everywhere and n-nowhere..."

Phil couldn't believe his ears. He finished his love bite and slid his fingers out. He turned Dan around gently and leaned down to his collarbone. He started sucking again, Dan's hands clutching to Phil's hips. Eager for more answers, he looked at Dan in the eyes and spoke in the same slow, low and sensual voice.

"And what do you do?"

Dan pulled on Phil's hips so that he could feel the friction. He started to grind sloppily onto him and replied without hesitation in between moans and sighs like the first time.

"I l-lurk... I lurk around. I watch p-people. Aah... Fuck... It- it calms me. Makes me feel m-more... human... Mmh..."

Phil couldn't help his gigantic satisfied smile. To hide it from Dan, he moved to his nipple and swirled his tongue delicately around it. Dan arched his back, breathing sharply.

"What are your daydreams about?" Phil dared to ask, his confidence boosted by lust and satisfaction.

Dan hesitated for a moment, his grinding stopping for a few seconds. Noticing Dan's sudden pause, he panicked. Had he gone too far? To get the game back, he tugged at Dan's hair, pushed his head back against the mattress and nibbled his earlobe, kissing it gently as he pushed his hips harder against Dan's.

"Fuck!" Dan moaned, his mouth hanging open. "Death..." He muttered, resuming his sloppy grinding. "Death... Torture... Fate... Sin..."

Phil was taken aback. He had seen Dan's video about his daydreams, he had heard him admit to seeing his death... But hearing it said so casually, in this context, seemed so grotesque, barbaric...

Nonetheless, Phil continued playing along. Dan was so well caught between his fingers that he couldn't let him slip through. After kissing Dan passionately once more and forcing his hips onto his, he dared to ask one last question.

"Do your daydreams have something to do with what you're currently going through?"

Not looking into Dan's eyes, he continued flicking his tongue at his nipples while caressing his sides, one of Dan's sensitive spots. Dan's movements became slower and he stopped once more. He was hesitating again. But Phil had come too far to let it all go now.

He unfastened his own buckle quickly and pushed his jeans and underwear down swiftly. He took his cock and put the tip against Dan's entrance, not pushing in. Instinctively, Dan tried to push himself against it, but Phil stopped him from doing so.

"Fuck me..." Dan whispered, biting his lip in lust.

"Answer the question first." Phil commanded, still with his languorous but authoritarian voice.

"Just fuck me..." Dan begged again, jerking his hips forward to meet Phil's cock.

"Answer the question!" Phil repeated slightly aggressively.

"Please..." His voice was almost plaintive.

"ANSWER ME!" He shouted threateningly. 

"YES!" Dan screamed. "YES, YES, YES, _YES_!"

Phil smirked widely.

"Now let me fuck you, you fucking whore!" Phil exclaimed sensually.

He grabbed a condom and lube he had strategically packed in his suitcase and filled Dan roughly. Pinning his shoulders down harshly against the mattress, Phil didn't wait to gradually increase his pace.

"Aah... Yes! Fu- Fuck!" Dan exclaimed, holding strongly onto the bed sheets. "Fuck me, harder!"

"You like it, don't you, you little slut!" Phil impressed himself with his dirty talk. He let go of his shoulders and grabbed both his hips to get a better grip and pound harder.

Dan broke into a loud moan. Phil changed his angle and Dan squealed, arching his back and shoving his head into the pillow.

"There, please, oh, fuck, there, please, _fuck..."_

Phil continued in this angle, Dan's moaning increasing decibel at each thrust.

"I'm going to come..." Dan suddenly muttered.

Phil then slowed his pace. He saw Dan reach for his cock but he stopped him. Dan looked at him with pleading eyes, and Phil pulled out. Dan winced at the emptiness. Phil lied down next to him.

"Ride me." He commanded.

Dan obeyed. He climbed onto Phil and let him slide back in. He sighed and started rocking his hips. Phil laid back, thinking about what Dan had just admitted to him. He definitely would have to sleep on it.

Dan, still bobbing and whining ridiculously, soon shouted once more he was close to coming. Dan's answers were now tormenting him, and he didn't see the point in prolonging this anymore. So Phil grabbed Dan's cock and stroked the length delicately.

A minute later, Dan broke into a long and loud moan as he came violently onto Phil's stomach. Phil felt the pressure build up in his stomach when Dan tightened around him, and soon came as well.

Exhausted, Dan lazily climbed off Phil and flopped down next to him. He hid his head under the pillow and crawled under the sheets. Phil could hear his slow breathing only five minutes later.

After going to the bathroom to clean himself up and put back on his underwear, Phil slithered inside the sheets and stared at the ceiling. Dan's words were echoing in his head. He didn't really know what to think of them.

He glanced at the sleeping Dan next to him. He did not anticipate the morning after. Phil's mind was filled with a million different thoughts, and it was only an hour later that he finally managed to fall asleep with Dan's words still pounding the back of his mind.


	26. Chapter 26

The atmosphere in the room was so heavy that no one dared to talk. Next to Vincent Talley, Jesus Harrigan's chair was empty.

Quest crossed his arms awkwardly, feeling like the elephant in the room was his presence. But he kept quiet, thinking that, perhaps, it was his team's way of giving a minute of silence to their deceased friend.

After a few minutes of painful silence, Vincent spoke with a voice he wanted professional but turned out slightly shaky.

"Jesus Harrigan, 36 years old, died at approximately 10:40 pm. Broken nose, bruises on his face and lower abdomen, familiar number shaped wounds on his cheeks as well as stabbed throat, hands and feet."

He had said it without pausing and his lips pursed when he finished. The others nodded and Tucker indicated Dallas to put the pictures on the table. Reluctantly, he delicately placed each shot in front of him.

"So, um..." Zarah continued, coughing awkwardly. "Alpha used old rusty nails to put Jesus on the cross. If we're logic here, Alpha didn't already have those nails and that hammer with him. If they were his, he would've gone home with it, like he does with his penknife. But he likes to use other people's stuff, as we could see with Carrie Drysdale and Dave Evans, Emily Fontaine, Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin. Also, if they were his, they wouldn't be old and rusty. That led me to wonder where he could've gotten those supplies. And then I remembered Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin's secret hideout. Alpha could've easily stolen old tools from there. As for the cross, I noticed there were old wood pallets near the morgue's back entrance. This is probably what Alpha used. There were also signs suggesting a fight. Though, there were no fingerprints on the weapon, no blood that could be matched with the DNA we already have of Alpha, and basically nothing about him. So here's my theory: Jesus ended his day quite late, when he comes out the hospital, Alpha corners him, Jesus is way smarter than his past victims so they pick up a fight, but then Alpha wins and next thing we know..."

Zarah pointed to the full-body shot of Jesus nailed to the cross. Dallas shuddered. Tucker grunted.

"What I need to know," he said through gritted teeth, "is why Jesus Harrigan was killed when Sir Kadner over here gave us all fake identities!"

His tiny menacing eyes were staring angrily at him. The others in the room didn't say anything but looked down at their knees.

"No, seriously, I need to know!" Tucker said louder and with more aggressiveness this time. "Was that another one of your sacrifices, Kadner? Was it necessary to the well-being of this case? Did this help us in any fucking way?!"

Zarah gestured Tucker to calm down and stop talking. But it didn't seem like it was what he was going to do.

"Jesus Harrigan was one of my best men. He was young, he was talented, and he fucking loved his job."

Quest didn't move. He just listened. Wade wasn't defending him this time.

"I hope you realize this is entirely your fault, Kadner." Tucker spat.

"Tucker..." Zarah intervened. "Everyone is equally upset about Jesus but throwing the blame on one person isn't, in any way, shape or form, going to help more with this case. If we want to actually get somewhere, we have to leave our disputes behind and dig forward."

His lips pursed and he sunk back in his chair. Zarah exhaled loudly.

"Besides, Quest said on the crime scene that Alpha had probably seen Jesus before or that he knew him- or of him... We haven't interrogated people yet but it shouldn't take long. Quest... Do you have any more deductions to share with us?"

He shifted in his seat and leaned on the table. He explained his theory about the three different freedoms he had told Wade the day before.

"Oh, God..." Dallas muttered. "It's worse than we thought..."

"Alpha is trying to expand his power by setting examples."

"Wait, though, there is something that I still don't understand." Dallas said, rubbing his forehead. "Everything you explained, about the recreation of religious stories and the God complex, makes a lot of sense, but... why does he intend on killing sixteen people? Why sixteen? Why this number in particular?"

Quest grinned slightly.

"I was wondering the same thing." He admitted. "But I did some research and I think I found an answer. The meaning of things is the key here, Wiseman. Apparently, the number 16 represents personal willpower, independence, initiative, action and overcoming obstacles. 16 reminds you that your thoughts create your reality. Number 16 feeds Alpha the power he needs to accomplish his revolution."

"Holy shit..." Dallas whispered, astonished.

"He's playing a complicated game and he's not going to stop..." Quest finished.

"Alpha is a lazy God, then."

Vincent finally opened his mouth after listening to his coworkers share theories.

"What do you mean, Talley?" Wade asked.

He laughed humorlessly.

"I told you Jesus would've done anything for us to identify Alpha off of him. I found hairs stuck to his fingers and skin cells under his nails. Turns out, none of that DNA matches the one we found on Howie Ikin's corpse."

Quest's eyes widened.

"Wait... are you trying to tell me that..."

"What I'm saying is, either Alpha is making someone else do his dirty work, or there is an imposter in town."

Quest let his head fall into his palm, feeling like the world around him was spinning so quickly that he would be sick.

~

Sticky, hot and uncomfortable, Dan woke up from his dreamless sleep. He pushed the sheets aside and rose from the mattress. He was strangely surprised when he looked down his body only to find out he was completely naked. He turned around swiftly and his face flushed both from embarrassment and anger when he saw a shirtless Phil soundly sleeping on the spot next to him. The memories from last night flooded back his mind.

Furious, he fetched fresh clothes from his suitcase, gathered the ones that had been spread haphazardly around the hotel room and threw them in a pile. He shoved his penknife down his pocket and left the room without even checking the time. It was only in the lobby that he realized it must've been pretty early since no one was there. The clock near the entrance displayed 5:16.

Dan continued to walk and exited the hotel. When he got out, it was still dark. He turned on his left and followed the path. He didn't know where he was headed, he just wanted to get as far away from Phil.

Phil had used the same fishing pole as him... And Dan had bitten! He remembered clearly the answers he had given. Phil had managed to squeeze the facts out of him! He had admitted his daydreams had something to do with everything and what he truly saw! He had been stupid enough to fall into Phil's embrace and open up his heart to him.

Suddenly, Dan heard tires screech on the road next to him. He turned around in a swift movement to see what was happening, and next thing he knew, he was dodging a car that was coming at an incredible speed towards him. His heart pounding against his ribcage, the car crashed into the pole of a restaurant sign Dan had just walked past. He exhaled sharply, unable to believe what had just happened. Dan was about to step forward and help the driver, but the pole the car had just crashed into started creaking. He didn't have the time to dodge this time. He put his arms above his head as the sign collapsed from the pole and dropped heavily over his body.

Dan gasped and snapped open his eyes. Shit! Daydreams about himself were never a good sign... _It_ wasn't happy... _The voice_ wasn't happy... _"You fucked up... you fucked up..."_

Fastening up his pace, Dan walked a long time. After a while, he stopped himself and looked around him. His breath heavy, he noticed he had ended up in a little park with very few playset equipment. There was a strangely large sandbox with three swings, one slide and two benches. Around the area stretched a forest with big and old trees. At this time of the day, it was empty and looked rather gloomy under the four small street lamps.

The daydream still lingering in the back of his mind, Dan unconsciously stroked his weapon in his pocket. He nodded to himself before turning on his heels and following the path he had just taken to walk back to the hotel. Though, he did not intend to go back into their room. Phil was still asleep and if he went back there and witnessed his awakening, all he would want to do was bury himself in a hole and/or punch him. Either way, it wasn't a good idea.

When he passed the hotel's entrance, he glanced at the clock once more. He was surprised to realize he had been out for two hours. He shrugged and took the elevator. Dan walked silently past the set of numbered doors to finally stop himself in front of a particular one. He knocked.

After a few seconds of silence, he heard footsteps on the other side and the doorknob twisted. Louise's head poked through the door. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a bathrobe.

"Dan? What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Hi." He replied. "I knew you'd be up. Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure."

She stepped backwards and let Dan in.

"Why aren't you in your room?" Louise wondered, closing the door behind her. "It's pretty early, you can still get a bit of sleep."

"I woke up and I was really hungry so I got out to go buy myself a snack, but I forgot my key." Dan lied. "Phil is still asleep I don't want to wake him up."

"Oh, you can get another key at the reception. Just tell them you forgot it and they'll give you one."

"No, it's okay."

"Dan, I really think you should go have the sleep you can get before the first day starts. You were a bit tipsy last night and I wouldn't want you to fall asleep too early on the day." Louise insisted. "I'll go get the key for you if it's because you're too awkward to ask..."

Louise was in the process of opening the door when Dan stopped her.

"No, Louise, please..." Dan begged. "I'll just... nap here." He pointed Louise's bed. "You keep doing what you're doing and pretend like I'm not here."

Louise closed the door and turned to face Dan.

"Dan, is there something wrong?" She worried. "Why don't you want to go back to your room?"

"Nothing's wrong." Dan lied again. "I just... wanted to talk to you."

She raised one of her eyebrows.

"Oh, then, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Sorry for being a dick yesterday." That was all Dan could think about.

"You weren't a dick yesterday!" Louise giggled. "Well, maybe like, half a dick."

Dan laughed weakly.

"Well, you can nap here if you want." Louise accepted. "Though, I'll make sure to go ask Phil for your key later so you can go back when you wake up."

"No!" Dan exclaimed. "No, whatever you do, please, don't talk to Phil..."

"What? Why?" Louise asked, confused.

But right after asking the question, her features hardened and she pursed her lips.

"Never mind." She said. "I won't, I promise."

Louise then disappeared into the bathroom. Dan let himself fall onto her bed and closed his eyes as the gloomy little park visited his thoughts.

~

"The hair that we found on Howie Ikin's corpse doesn't correspond to the skin cells I found on Jesus."

Quest had taken Vincent back to the lab so they could talk privately about the DNA issue. The forensic had had to repeat his discovery to the detective a few times before he swallowed it completely.

"And you didn't find anyone in your DNA bank to match the hair or the skin cells?" Quest repeated for the third time.

"No." Vincent affirmed.

Quest passed his slender fingers through his hair nervously.

"That's impossible..." Quest mumbled, munching on his inner cheek.

"I've told you a thousand times, Quest..." Vincent said, exhausted. "That's what I found."

"It's impossible that Alpha got someone else to work for him." Quest exclaimed more to himself than to Vincent. "It's his work, his baby, his pattern, he wouldn't let anyone get the credit for what he's done so far! That only leaves us to the imposter..."

"Someone would've deciphered the meaning behind his work and decided to pitch in?" Vincent suggested.

"Perhaps. But... still. It doesn't make sense! Alpha has his own way of doing things. His crimes are easily recognizable; with his distinguishable mark and his creativity, we all would've known if it was an imposter! Besides, why, of all people, would an imposter kill Jesus Harrigan? He had his fake identity that was out the pattern, and with all the secret information in the investigation, he couldn't have known that crucifixion was next on the list! Alpha is playing a game with me, he wouldn't have killed someone so close to me if he didn't want to get my attention!"

"Then, an imposter killed Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin?" Vincent suggested again.

"No, again, that doesn't make any sense!" Quest was getting angry. " _'_ _They're playing hide and seek'_ was written in the dirt at their crime scene! Alpha wrote that himself to tell me that he's good at hiding from me! An imposter wouldn't have gone through so much trouble just for that! It doesn't make sense... It doesn't make sense..."

He started pacing around the examination table. His fingers were tapping nervously.

"If you're so sure about him playing a game with _you_..." Vincent said after a few silent minutes of watching Quest walk in circles. "What says he didn't do this on purpose just to screw with you?"

Quest stopped abruptly. He considered Vincent's words but didn't add anything. He walked the distance that was separating them and stopped a few feet from him.

"I'm sorry about Jesus." Quest apologised sincerely. "You must think I'm a heartless bastard or whatever and I completely understand. I wish it didn't happen."

He turned around to leave. It was only when his hand was on the doorknob that Vincent's words echoed to his ears.

"Some people do bad things with the best of intentions. We must forgive the ones who admit to their wrongs, and pity the others who believe their wrongs serve the good."

Quest smiled weakly and left.

~

"What the fuck did you do?!"

Louise had awoken Dan when the time had come for them to leave and had coated him with a great amount of foundation. Even though he didn't want to, Dan didn't have the choice but to follow her to his own hotel room. Louise had knocked on the door and Phil had opened, avoiding Dan's eyes. Dan hadn't even looked up. He already had all of his stuff so Phil grabbed his phone and they left the hotel. When Dan had started to walk off on his own up ahead of them, Louise had confronted Phil.

"What are you talking about?" Phil wasn't a very good liar.

"He was at my door at 7 this morning and almost begged me not to bring him back to your room!" Louise was very angry, but she kept her voice down so Dan couldn't hear them.

"I didn't do anything..."

"Phil, you're a terrible liar!" Louise exclaimed. "You told me you had this under control, you didn't want me to get involved, but look at him! He looks terrified!"

Phil bit his lip anxiously. He remembered last night. Dan's reaction had been expected. They hadn't even spoken a word since then. Waking up alone that morning hadn't been unexpected, either. It was what happened each time. But had he gone too far this time..?

"Alright, I might have pushed him a little last night..." Phil admitted.

Louise grabbed her head with both hands like she had heard very bad news.

"Phil, oh dear, what did you tell him?" She asked nervously. "What did you _do_?!"

Phil gulped. He wasn't going to tell her _that_.

"Look, I didn't have a choice, okay?" Phil reassured her. "I got what I wanted to know, that's all that matters."

Louise scoffed.

"I didn't think you were like that, Phil." She scolded. "Whatever you did, it was low."

Phil looked down. She was right.

"Okay, but now I have the information that I need to help him out! I might have squeezed it out of him but at least I have it!" Phil tried to justify himself.

"Stop talking, you're digging yourself into a hole." Louise advised.

Phil glanced at Dan. He looked very absent. He rubbed his forehead. He regretted half of his action. Phil now had the information he needed to help Dan, but he had taken advantage of him. He suddenly scoffed to himself. Dan had done the same thing to him. Why should _he_ feel bad?

The walk to the convention was accompanied with a deadly silence in which Phil dreaded the next hours he would have to spend with Dan, meeting people and faking that the awkwardness that reigned between them like every morning after wasn't there.

~

A few coffee drops splashed on the table when Wade put it down in front of Quest a bit too aggressively. He had a big gulp of it as he massaged his forehead, feeling a headache coming.

"I thought the picture was becoming clearer." Wade said as he sat down on the chair in front of the detective. "I didn't think it could become this blurry."

Quest sighed.

"There's six people left on his list. I fucked up, Wade. Big time."

"There's still time." Wade reassured.

"We have nothing, Wade! None of the information we have is useful to stop him! I keep waiting and waiting for him to make a mistake but look where this led us! Two different DNA's and a dead forensic!"

"You found a potential suspect, though." Wade said. "You've got him on tape. We only have to match him to an identity."

"We can't see anything on the tapes. But I guess we don't have a choice anymore. We'll screenshot the best image we can get of him from each tape we've got and send them everywhere. I want everyone to see what he looks like. We'll open a phone line so people that have any useful information about Alpha can call in. Send his image on TV, in the papers, hand them one by one in the street or go door to door, put it on Piccadilly Square, I don't care, just get it around."

Wade nodded.

~

Dan and Phil sighed of relief when they saw the last person in the line walk away. It had been 4 hours and their legs felt like mush. Still without a word, they gathered all the stuff the people had given them with the help of a security guard and headed back to their room to dispose of them. Dan was exhausted from faking his happiness for so long and the urges inside of him hadn't stopped for a second. Every time a person's flesh brushed against his, he remembered the night before and his body tensed awkwardly as the urge to murder someone grew bigger inside of him.

When the guard left, Dan disappeared to the toilet and Phil dropped on the sofa. He sighed deeply, rubbing his face with both hands. He had never faked so hard in his entire life and he felt drained from it. He knew the awkwardness would wear off some time tonight, but he felt so incredibly bad that he couldn't just wait for things to work themselves out.

While Dan had been in Louise's room, Phil had had time to think about the answers Dan had given him. He had replied rather vaguely, but Phil knew it was the closest to genuine replies he would ever get from him.

_"I go here and there. Everywhere and nowhere."_

_"I lurk around. I watch people. It calms me. Makes me feel more human."_

_"Death... Torture... Fate... Sin..."_

_"YES!"_

It was still a blur in his head, but he understood more things than he did before. Dan's daydreams were about death and torture and they had something to do with his current situation. Phil could scratch certain theories off his head, such as the one where Dan was a male prostitute or where he met up with a bunch of junkies to get high. Though, ticking off these ones only left the worst theories, the one Phil didn't really want to consider.

 _"'I lurk around... I go here and there... Everywhere and nowhere...'"_ Phil thought to himself. _"Is he in some street gang? In a cult? 'I watch people. Makes me feel more human.' What could that possibly imply?"_

Phil sighed, rubbed his face again and leaned on his knees.

 _"But he said his daydreams were about death and torture... faith and sin? What does_ that _imply? Maybe it's one of those scary websites where you can..."_

Phil growled. No. He didn't want to think about that right now. But Dan's bruised face and knuckles flashed in his mind again. As much as he wanted to ignore it, Phil knew they were related to whatever Dan was doing. And it was scary. With Dan's confessions, everything he was doing became much more frightening. Phil didn't know what it was yet, but he was getting bad vibes. Very bad vibes.

Phil heard the toilet flush and Dan emerged from the bathroom. He stood up in a swift movement and turned to face Dan.

"Dan..." He said when he looked at him in turn. "Um... about last night..."

Dan stood there. His lips pursed and his features hardened. But he didn't move.

"I just wanted to say that..." Phil tried to find the right words. "I... I just want you to know that... I'm-"

Someone knocked on their door.

"I should probably get that." Dan said, walking past Phil to open the door.

Louise appeared in the door with a smile on her face. But when she saw her friends in the room looking rather uncomfortable, it faded.

"Did I interrupt something?" Louise asked, worried.

"No, it's fine. You didn't." Dan replied, grinning weakly.

Phil sighed. Louise laughed nervously, feeling the elephant in the room.

"Alright, ready to go then?"

~

YouTube conventions were good with parties since everyone was there. Louise had dragged her two friends with her to yet another one to make them have fun after their long day. Dan had quickly ventured off with some other people who had beers and booze, but Phil didn't really have the heart to the party. Everything from last night was bothering him so much he couldn't think about anything else. Though, he still followed Louise who had found some other friends and was now chatting and giggling with. The both of them were keeping an eye on Dan from a safe distance to keep count of the drinks he ingested.

Though, 20 minutes after they had gotten to the party, Phil left Louise's side, telling her he would come back. It was only after another 20 minutes passed that she realized Phil still hadn't come back. She excused herself to her friends and searched around for him. When she asked people if they had seen him and they replied no, she started getting a bit anxious.

She walked past the bathroom door. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked on the door and said "Phil?"

"Go away..." She heard Phil's croaky voice.

"Are you alright?" She asked a bit more worryingly.

"I'm fine!" He exclaimed.

Louise heard a loud sob. Her heart dropped in her chest.

"Oh... Love... Unlock the door please..."

There was a silence, a click was heard and Louise opened the door. Phil was sat on the floor, his back against the bathtub, his bloodshot eyes wet with salty tears. She gasped and closed the door behind her.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She asked, sitting next to him.

"Louise, this is terrible!" He exclaimed with a shaky voice. "Terrible!"

"Is this about whatever you did last night?" She asked softly.

Phil sniffled and wiped his cheeks.

"Yes..." He replied more calmly. "But..."

He sighed angrily and grabbed his head between his hands.

"The things Dan has told me, Louise..." Phil said through a strangled sob. "They've left me to think so many things..."

She kept silence. Phil let go a few more sobs before shoving them down and speaking again.

"Do you remember when I told you I suspected this thing to be much more than a depression?"

She nodded yes. Phil wiped his eyes with a swift movement.

"I think..."

Phil paused. He went straight for it.

"I don't think what Dan does is actually legal."

"Oh, Lord..." Louise whispered. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know..." Phil answered quietly, staring at his feet. "But it doesn't seem good..."

~

After Louise had managed to make Phil stop crying, she helped him get up and made him go back to his own room to get some sleep. He followed her advice and went back, leaving Dan in between her hands. He collapsed on the bed and almost immediately fell asleep.

Dan, on the other hand, was still trying to get numb. Gore was the only thing his mind had been able to focus on for the entire day and Phil hadn't helped making him feel better. So he took everything that could get under his nose. He knew Louise was watching him from the corner of the room, but he couldn't care less. Unlike last time, he downed the shots that had been offered to him without Louise getting in the way. At some point he was offered blunts and he gladly accepted them. He was surprised that Louise still hadn't stopped him. She was in the corner, glancing at him with menacing eyes, saying nothing.

It was only when someone pulled out a small plastic bag with a few tiny pills that Louise stepped in. She gave him the same speech she had told the night before, and after a little arguing, she won and Dan headed back to his room with her on his heels. When Dan disappeared into the room, she pulled out her phone and texted Phil:

 _"I hope this doesn't wake you up but I got Dan back to your room. He had a lot of beer, a few shots and smoked a bit... I stopped him before he took some X. I told him to be careful but I'm sorry if there's a tantrum..._ _Please just try to get your mind off all these things and just relax... Love you."_

In the bed, Phil was woken up by the creak of the door. He heard Dan grunt, saw a few lights turn on and off, the bathroom door open, a flush, a door close. He heard his footsteps come into the room and Phil closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

He heard Dan strip off his clothes and throw them over his shoulder. The scent of weed that had stained them traveled to Phil's nostrils. He winced at the thought of Dan smoking.

A few moments later, the sheets were lifted and Dan crawled underneath. Phil tensed on his side of the bed. He stayed in silence listening to Dan's breath for a few minutes until they both fell asleep.

Phil's head was empty and serene, but he was suddenly torn from sleep by a noise. His heavy eyelids opened and he glanced at the clock to check the time. Three hours had passed since he had heard Dan come back.

The noise repeated itself, and Phil was surprised when he realized what it was. It was Dan. Next to him, Dan was deeply asleep, but he was mumbling. Phil remembered being awakened by the same sound a few times last week.

Intrigued, he decided to pay more attention to what Dan was saying this time.

"Sixteen..." He mumbled incoherent words. "...fucking... skin you... Quest... keep looking... dead... will rule... Phil... poison... toxic... hate you... love you... blood... more blood... blood..."

Phil's heart started pumping faster. He grabbed his pillow and wrapped it around his head to stop hearing Dan's mumbling. He tried to calm himself down but his breathing had become heavier.

With all the thoughts Phil had had about Dan today, this sleep talk hadn't succeeded to reassure him for one second.

 


	27. Chapter 27

There was a man. He was completely naked, and his weak wrists were confined inside rusty metal cuffs linked to two long chains strongly secured with a screw in the concrete ceiling. His ankles had inherited the same fate; two creaky cuffs holding him tight with chains screwed into the concrete floor.

Another man walked in. He was dressed in black from head to toes. He was dragging a stainless steel table with a panoply of different tools. Phil could distinguish old and rusty ones, like the cuffs and chains, but some were new and shiny, just like the table.

The naked man squirmed and squealed when he saw the other walk in. The chains rattled against each other. The man in black approached the tied one and laughed. The sound it made curdled Phil's blood.

He picked up an old, unsharpened knife from the lot and held it in front of the man. He started screaming and squirming around even more. Phil knew what was about to happen. He tried to move but his body was paralyzed. He tried to shout, but nothing was coming out.

He looked around for help, but everything around him was just a void. The man in black delicately placed the rusty knife on the naked man's stomach. Phil tried to scream again, but still nothing would come out.

Just as the man in black applied pressure and started tearing the pleading other's flesh with his old knife, Phil caught a silhouette in the corner of his eye.

He turned his head towards Dan and he exclaimed in a voice that Phil had never heard from him before:

"Just enjoy the show..."

Phil jerked awake. He put his hand against his beating heart as he tried to control his heavy breathing. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and composed himself. Dan shifted in the bed next to him and Phil jumped again. He had completely forgotten he was there.

His nightmare was still very vivid, but he didn't want to think about it. His head was a mess after this bad night sleep. Dan's sleep talk lingered in the back of his head as well as everything else he had been thinking about the night before. All these elements had probably nourished his bad dream.

He looked at the clock on the nightstand. 7:06. Phil knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, so he got up carefully not to wake up Dan, grabbed his phone and walked to the other room. He noticed a text message he had received while he was asleep. It was from Louise.

 _"I hope this doesn't wake you up but I got Dan back to your room. He had a lot of beer, a few shots and smoked a bit... I stopped him before he took some X. I told him to be careful but I'm sorry if there's a mayhem..._ _Please just try to get your mind off all these things and just relax... Love you."_

Feeling like he would be sick, Phil put his phone down. He didn't need to know that. He would've been way better without knowing what Dan had almost taken last night while he wasn't there. _"'I'm trying to stop', my ass."_ Phil thought.

Fortunately, their meetup was over. Dan and Phil only had to make a few stage appearances and participate to panels for the next two days. Even though Phil dreaded every moment spent with Dan, he was rather glad that he wouldn't have to fake so much for the rest of Playlist.

Surely, the awkwardness of _that_ night had probably worn off. But things had changed. They both knew that they had both crossed a line they shouldn't have. One had over shared, the other knew too much. But Phil wasn't one for leaving things undone. Even though things were now different, he had to make the best out of it. He would have to confront Dan.

Phil dressed up and left to get coffee. He went back to his room, sat on the sofa and turned on the TV to kill time until Dan woke up.

Two hours later, Dan arose from the bed. His head was massively painful. Without bothering to put on a shirt or pants, he dragged his feet to the other room. The sound of the television came to his ears and made his already hurting head pound even more.

"Oh, good morning..." Phil said shyly when he saw Dan emerge from the bedroom in only his boxers.

"Could you turn the volume down?" Dan asked as he massaged his temples. "And perhaps talk a little softer..."

"Sorry..." Phil apologised as he turned off the TV.

Dan slowly walked towards the sofa and sat down heavily as he exhaled deeply. Phil shifted away awkwardly.

"Uh, I got room service half an hour ago..." He said with a voice he wanted not too loud. "I got you pancakes and coffee if you want, they should still be a bit hot..."

Dan's throat was dry. He nodded and told Phil he just wanted the coffee. Phil got up, grabbed the coffee and put it in Dan's hands.

"Thanks..."

A silence settled in which Phil anxiously watched Dan sip his drink.

"Dan?" He finally said with a tiny voice.

"Mmh?"

"We... um..." He hesitated. "We really need to talk about the other night..."

Dan sighed deeply, holding his forehead in his hand.

"What is there to talk about?" Dan asked, annoyed.

"The things you said, mainly..."

Dan stared at him longingly. Phil suddenly felt very odd, and he didn't want to be there anymore. Dan placed his coffee on the table and shifted to face his friend. His eyes were so menacing, the glimmer Phil had always feared was staring directly at him.

"We'll get _one_ thing very straight..." Dan warned. "What I said that night, we don't talk about it. _Ever._ "

Phil was taken aback. His jaw dropped.

"D-Dan... but..." Phil stammered.

 _"Ever."_ Dan repeated threateningly.

"Dan, whether you like it or not I know things now, I want to help!" Phil blurted.

Dan got dangerously close to Phil's face and spoke in a very quiet and scary voice.

"I already said that I _don't_ need your help. I let you in to where I was comfortable because you were doing no harm, but you abused of your privilege. You crossed a line you shouldn't have, Philip. You're entering new territories. If you wish to trespass, go ahead, I'm not stopping you. But you better be careful where you walk because you might not get out of there in one piece."

Phil's breath caught in his throat. Dan grabbed his coffee and stood up, looking down at the terrified Phil.

" _Hoc est bellum._ " He said through gritted teeth before disappearing into the bathroom.

Phil stood up in turn, flabbergasted. After a few seconds of nothingness, his features hardened and anger took over his entire body.

"You're damn right it is." He spat before grabbing his stuff and leaving the room.

~

Every man for himself. This wasn't one of their stupid fight. It was war.

After the incident, Louise came by their room once more. She noticed the tension and coldness between her two friends. She took Phil aside to ask him what was happening this time.

"Nothing." He replied harshly. "Everything is perfectly fine."

"Dear, it's been two hours and you two haven't spoken a word or even looked at each other." She said. "Have you talked to him about what you told me in the bathroom yesterday? Has he not swallowed it?"

"Fuck Dan." Phil spat through gritted teeth. "Fuck him."

"Phil, don't say that!" Louise exclaimed. "What makes you say that?"

Phil sighed.

"Louise, you know what you don't need?"

She nodded no.

"This." He pointed to his chest and to Dan in the distance sitting and talking with other people. "You don't need this. Dan's just a jerk and I'm an asshole. You don't fucking need this. Forget all of it. It's between him and me now."

"But, Phil," she retorted, "you said Dan might be doing illegal things-"

"I said forget it." Phil said a bit too harshly. "I've trespassed. There's no going back."

He left Louise with her confused thoughts. She watched Phil walk towards the group of people Dan was hanging out with. She still had so many questions, but she sighed deeply. They were Dan and Phil. Two boys, ambiguous and stubborn, full of love and full of hate. She had known them for as long as she could remember, and still knew very little about them.

Their actual relationship was more confusing than an advanced algebra equation and trust was still hard to achieve at times since most of their life was founded on lies. Louise, loving the both of them wholeheartedly, had pledged to herself to help them work on stability and honesty. The improvement had found itself to be more disappointing than what Louise had expected, but at least there was one.

At times, she got tired of breaking her brain for them. But this time, she was fed up. She couldn't see the point in helping them when all she got back was a slap across the face.

As she watched Dan and Phil ignore each other, she joined them and didn't talk to them about the whole drama for the rest of Playlist Live.

The last two days of the event passed quite fast. People around the two boys noticed their unusual silence and reserved manners towards each other. But they didn't ask questions. When Louise asked them if they were staying in Florida a few more days with her and their American friends, they both immediately refused. They said it was better this way, and Louise simply shrugged, not bothering to even ask why.

Their flight back home was very early the next morning. So when they got back early from yet another party, they went straight to bed. Though, Dan waited for Phil to be asleep before grabbing his gloves, his knife, and sneaking out their room to head outside.

He wasn't really thinking. His legs were leading the way. But when they stopped, he smirked at the view of the gloomy little park in front of his eyes. It was the same as the first time he had been there, except for one little detail. Someone was sitting peacefully on one of the swings.

Dan approached her slowly. When he was close enough, he grabbed her head firmly and crashed it against the metal pole used as the swing set's base. She fell off the seat with the impact, yelling in pain, and Dan held her body up against his shoulder to strangle her with the chains of the swing she had just fallen from.

"16..." He whispered into her ear.

The girl had ginger hair so long that even secured into a ponytail it stopped in the middle of her back. When he stepped forward, she turned her head in his direction, but didn't say anything. He continued his way and sat down on the swing next to her.

"Hey." She said after a minute of silence.

"Hey." Dan simply replied, looking at the few stars in the sky.

"How are you?" She asked, determined not to let the silence and awkwardness settle in.

"I'm alright... You?"

"I've been better."

She raised her head and looked at the stars too.

"My dog died yesterday." She added even though Dan was still silent next to her. "Right after my girlfriend dumped me."

"I'm sorry." It was the only words Dan could find.

"It's alright." She sighed. "He was old and suffering. It's better this way. And our relationship was slowly going down the drain."

She tore her gaze from the sky to look at Dan.

"Have you ever had someone you cared so much about, but deeply hated at the same time? But even though you felt that way, you could never blame them for it?"

Dan chuckled weakly. He nodded.

"It's the worst." She continued. "I hate her for leaving me, but I love her for doing it because I was destroying her."

Dan didn't speak. He hated to think this girl's life story was relatable to his. And, frankly, he was seriously wondering why she was just laying her problems on him.

"You push them away but then you ask yourself why they become so distant..."

She looked at her feet.

"She kept saying: _'Kimi, I'm not your anesthetic! I can't be loved one day and hated the other! Kimi, stop treating me like this! Kimi, I want to help you, but help yourself too! Kimi! Kimi!'"_

She sighed again.

"She always said my name with so much pain in her voice. I can't believe she put up with me for so long."

"It's when they're gone or they hate you that you realize how fucked up you really are." Dan said, his eyes still on the starry sky.

A silence settled. The girl, which Dan concluded was called Kimi, clutched the chains of her swing with more strength.

"You're probably right." She stopped and faced him. "I'm sorry, I'm such a blabbermouth I forgot to ask for your name!"

"Dan." He said. "You're Kimi, I suppose?"

"Yeah." She giggled. "You have a funny accent. Are you not from around here?"

"Ah, no." He replied. "I'm from England."

"Ooh, that's cool." She scratched her forehead uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for shoving my problems in your throat. I bet you're here on a really nice vacation to Universals or something and I'm over here talking about my dead dog and my ex-girlfriend five seconds after you sit down next to me in a creepy little park."

Dan laughed.

"It's okay. We all have our problems."

"Yeah..."

Dan stroked his knife in his pocket.

"Did it make you feel better, at least?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess. It's always good to tell a stranger. You get different points of view."

"Well I hope you savoured this moment." He announced, smiling.

"Why?" She asked, grinning.

"It was probably the last time you'll be able to tell anyone anything."

Kimi squinted her eyes in confusion. And with that, Dan pulled the knife out of his pocket, switched the blade, and in one swift movement, stabbed it on the top of her head. He heard her skull crack and watched Kimi's body fall off the swing gracefully. She flopped on the ground and laid there, motionless. Dan stood up from his own swing and stared down at her with delight.

"Someone really needed to shut you up." He exclaimed as he pulled the knife out of her skull.

The blood oozed out from the wound profusely.

"Hope you'll be reborn mute, blabbermouth." Dan laughed.

~

Dan came back to their room after midnight. When he walked into the bedroom, Phil was sitting on the bed. They stared at each other longingly. Dan knew Phil's squinted eyes meant he was debating whether or not he should mention the fact he had just gone out for three hours, yet again. The winner of that debate was soon revealed when Phil exclaimed in a casual voice:

"Had fun?"

"Very much." Dan replied, trying to minimize his grin. "Are you not sleeping?"

"I couldn't." Phil admitted. "I'll sleep on the plane."

Dan nodded. Phil noticed Dan was wearing his bike gloves. He frowned. Usually, he would've said "why are you wearing my gloves?" But this was war. The digging had to be sneaky from now on.

"You're wearing gloves." Phil pointed out.

Dan looked at his hands. He felt blood rush to his cheeks. He couldn't believe he had forgotten to take the _fucking_ gloves off! Though, Dan took control of his panic before it could betray him.

"I am." He simply said.

Phil nodded casually.

"Cool."

"Cool. Well, I'm going to take a shower now."

"Cool."

Dan grabbed his suitcase and dragged it with him in the bathroom. Phil watched him go and leaned on the bedhead. He had always wondered what Dan had done with his bike gloves after he had asked for them a few weeks ago. Dan had never posted a video with them, like he had said he would, and Dan sure didn't ride bikes. He didn't even _own_ a bike. The most curious thing was why he had brought them with him in America. What could he possibly use bike gloves for?

_"Death... Torture... Fate... Sin..."_

Phil remembered his dream. He remembered Dan's silhouette telling him to enjoy the 'show'...

Phil had started suspecting Dan to participate to some of those scary underground torture events. People basically paid to get recorded torturing people. The footage was showed live to some creepy, untraceable websites. Phil had learned about those through some weird online ads he had accidentally clicked on. Maybe the gloves were to keep his hands from being dirty? If there were events of that sort in London, maybe Dan had found one in Florida? That was something Phil had to investigate.

He imagined Dan as the man in black. Strangely, as much as he hated it, he could actually see Dan doing it.

He was torn from his daydreaming when a wet haired Dan emerged from the bathroom, already dressed in his pyjamas. He flopped down on the spot next to Phil and crawled under the sheets.

"Wake me up when we have to go."

Phil nodded. He swallowed hard and looked at the sleeping Dan. He looked so peaceful and so serene laying there. He couldn't believe his poor innocent, sweet and sour little 2009 internet crush could be capable of anything like that.

 _"You don't really know anyone."_ He thought to himself before diving into the sheets.

~

It had been an entire week since they had gotten anything from Alpha. The team had had time to review Jesus' murder over a thousand times, to come up with new theories- one as pointless as the other- to answer over 50 calls from the open Alpha phone line- which turned out very useless as most of them were prank calls- and even affiliate a new forensic with the case, Vani Singh. It had been hard to convince Vincent to agree to the change, but he finally admitted that his work would be lightened greatly with Vani around to help him.

Bouquets of flowers of different sizes had been placed under Jesus' picture at the department's entrance. Candles were lit throughout the day and people that came in and out stopped for a minute, making the flames dance, to read out the small sign that said  _"In memory of Jesus Kortajarena-Harrigan, a passionate worker and a loving father",_ which had led Vincent to adopt the habit of coming to work through the back door.

His funeral was short and simple. His son Thomas had flown back from Spain to say the goodbye he hadn't had the chance to say, and he was accompanied by Mr. Kortajanera and Mrs. Harrigan, Jesus' parents. The whole team had showed up dressed in black to the ceremony and had sat behind Jesus' small family, except for Quest who had decided to silently walk into the church as the speech had been half-recited, and assisted from the back. He had left when the speech had ended and Mr. Kortajarena and Mrs. Harrigan alongside Thomas were getting ready to head out and bury the urn.

After that, Quest, on the other hand, had spent the entire week in the darkness of his tiny apartment. He had spent day and night going over all of the ten victims' files, comparing details and analysing information. Despite all the research he had done, there was no sign of an abnormality in Alpha's pattern. And so the mystery of the two different DNAs was becoming even harder.

Vincent had mentioned the fact it could've been one of Alpha's tricks. Maybe he had planted it just to play with him. But who's DNA could it be? And which one was Alpha's? If they found more DNA and it fit one they already had, what said it was really Alpha's, and not the DNA of the other person?

And now, after a week, nothing had happened. No murder, no suspicion, nothing. It was messing with Quest's head.

He sighed and let himself fall on his bed. He needed sleep.

~

A week after Playlist Live, Dan and Phil were still careful around each other. The conversations were short, since both of them analysed the other's every word and gesture. The night strolls were on standby and Phil had noticed. For an entire week, it was as if everything had been back to normal. But they both knew it hadn't. They were ready to pounce at any moment.

But on Monday, Phil left to go to dinner with a friend. Dan had waited half an hour after he had been gone to then disappear into the night.

It had been an entire week since he had killed for the last time. After taking care of Kimi in the gloomy little park, Phil and he had flown straight back to England, and since Phil was watching his every move, it had become difficult to do anything. But now that he was gone, he took his chance.

He knew Phil had probably done something sneaky, or that he already knew he was on a night stroll, but Dan couldn't care less. He had a pattern to continue.

His legs were leading him to a part of town he had rarely explored. He turned to a street with shops on end. In front of one of them was a man with brown hair falling on his shoulders and a groomed beard. In his hands were an insane amount of grocery bags, and at his feet was a large dog food sack.

Dan instinctively walked towards him.

"Hey, excuse me, could you give me a hand please?" The man asked when he saw Dan approach him.

Dan smiled and stopped in front of him. He opened the door of the shop he was in front and grabbed the man's head in one swift movement. He then lowered him in the entrance and closed the door as hard as he could on the man's head. He howled in pain, and Dan repeated the move several times until he could see his blood splash out.

"Sixteen..." He murmured to his ear.

"Hey, excuse me, could you give me a hand please?"

Dan jerked. "Oh, uh, sure!"

"Ah, thank you so much..." The man thanked, sighing in relief. "I got ignored by three people before you. Could you just grab the dog food please?"

Dan nodded and threw the bag over his shoulder. It hit his backpack strongly and he felt the impact all the way to his spine. He heard a small clang on the ground, as if something had fallen off his backpack, but didn't pay more attention to it.

"I'm Link, by the way." He said. "I live not far from here. If you could help me drop this off it would be amazing!"

"Dan." He replied. "And sure. Lead the way."

Link pointed the end of the road with his chin and stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, this is embarrassing." He giggled. "I thought I could handle all those bags, but then I saw there was a discount on the dog food."

"You have a dog then?" Dan asked casually.

"A husky." Link specified. "But she's at my brother's right now, so, if you're scared of dogs, you're fine."

"I'm not." Dan reassured.

He followed Link to his house whilst he made boring and uncomfortable small talk.

"Here we are." Link announced when they stopped in front of the door. "Could you reach for the keys in my pocket and open the door please?"

Dan did as he was told and closed the door behind him after Link got in. He led him to the kitchen where he dropped all of his bags on the table.

"You can put the food there." He indicated.

After putting the bag down, Dan was glad he had decided to put his gloves on before leaving.

"Ah, God, thank you so much! You have no idea how grateful I am!" Link beamed. "Do you want something to drink? To eat?"

"Uh, sure. I'll just have a glass of water please."

Link nodded and made him one.

"You live near?" Link asked after handing him his drink.

"A few blocks away." Dan replied. Link started unloading his bags. "Excuse me, where do I go if I want to use the bathroom?"

"Down the hallway behind you."

Dan nodded and turned around. He followed the hallway and entered the bathroom. He pulled out his penknife and switched the blade. He then waited a moment and got out. He tiptoed back to the kitchen. He noticed Link had his back turned away from him. He took his chance and sneaked up behind him. As he was about to stab him, Link turned around and jerked backwards with a yelp.

"Wow!" Link exclaimed, his hands in front of his body to protect himself from the blade. "Calm down there, pretty boy!"

"Don't move!" Dan ordered, brandishing his knife. "Don't fucking move!"

"What the fuck are you doing?!" His victim asked. "Were you going to sta-"

"Shut up!" Dan screamed aggressively, stepping forward. He should've stabbed him when he had the chance.

"You were, holy shit..." Link said, astonished. "Wait, are you..?"

He brought his hands to his mouth as Dan stared at him with threatening eyes.

"Holy shit, you're fucking Alpha..." He stepped back. "I'm going to be sick... I thought you were nice!"

"I said don't move, Zelda!" Dan roared.

"Okay, first of all, that joke is seriously overused, you need to step up your game..." Link said with a shaky voice. "And second of all, what do you want from me? I can give you anything! Please just leave me alone!"

"I don't want anything." Dan replied through gritted teeth. "I just want to see you suffer, see you bleed and see the glimmer in your eye slowly fade away as you draw your last breath..."

Link shivered.

"Please... Anything... Literally... I could suck your dick... Let me suck yo-"

"I already have someone to do that." Dan replied coldly.

"I don't know why you're trying to get _this_..." He pointed the penknife. "Inside of me... Because frankly, I would much rather have something else of yours inside of me if you know what I mean..."

Link chuckled nervously, but when he saw Dan's death stare, he choked on his laughter and stepped back once more.

"I could do that." Dan admitted. "But this..." He waved the knife. "This is ten times better..."

Dan made another step forward and Link's back hit the counter.

"Are you going to fuck my dead body? Oh, God... Please, just let me suck your dick and leave me be, I won't tell anyone about you, I promise! I PROMISE!"

Link was about to cry. Dan had finally travelled the distance that was separating them. He grabbed him strongly by the hair and leaned his head back.

"Just shut up. You're not helping yourself by saying obscenities."

Link looked down, embarassed and frigthened.

"Don't trust anyone." He whispered into his ear. "Or you'll end up on the cross."

"Please... please..." Link begged. "Don't, please..."

"But it's your time to be reborn."

Link was trembling in Dan's embrace. He opened his mouth to beg once more, but the penknife that had been stabbed into his throat stopped him from producing any noise. Dan dragged the knife down the flesh and watched the blood ooze out. He smiled, delighted. He pulled out his weapon and dropped Link's mutilated body to the ground.

~

Phil excused himself and went to the bathroom. After locking himself up in one of the stalls, he opened his phone and clicked on the app he had downloaded recently. He tapped the "map" option it offered and was greeted with a map of London and a red flashing dot. He used his thumb and index to zoom in and read out the name of the street the red dot was on.

Phil could've betted on it. Dan wasn't home.

The past week had been way too calm and quiet. Dan hadn't done any of his normal stuff, and Phil knew it was for the sole reason that this was war. Dan was trying to cook him at a low temperature.

But Phil had a few tricks up his sleeves. He had bought himself a tiny GPS tracking device. While Dan had been in the shower, he had sneaked into his room and stuck it on his backpack, because he _knew_ he never left without it. He had been checking it every night since, at odd hours, but the red dot had always stayed on their street. Phil knew that Dan would've taken advantage of him being gone to continue his business.

The name of the street the GPS was giving wasn't known to Phil. He had rarely been to that part of the town. Curious, he clicked on the street view option to see what would bring Dan there.

When it finally loaded, Phil couldn't help but be disappointed. The red dot wasn't in front of a strip club, or an abandoned house, or a suspicious looking building. It was a grocery store. A very plain, very boring grocery store.

Phil frowned. _"What is he doing at a grocery store?"_ Sighing angrily, he took a screenshot of the place and closed the app. He got out the bathroom, promising himself to check out this grocery store later.

~

After dinner, Phil's friend drove him right back home. In the car, he had checked the tracking app once again, and the red dot was still flashing in front of the grocery store. Phil clicked on the "path" option, where he could see the entire route traveled by the GPS. It was straight from their apartment to that place. Dan hadn't made detours and hadn't been anywhere else. Phil thought it was weird. He decided he would check it out once Dan would be gone from there, to make sure they didn't bump into each other.

He said goodbye to his friend and entered the flat. When he walked into the living room and saw Dan sitting on the sofa, he was really confused.

"Hey." Dan greeted him without leaving his eyes from his laptop.

"H-hey..." Phil stuttered. "W-what are you doing here?"

Dan frowned. "Can I not be here?"

"Oh, huh, sure... of course!" Phil laughed nervously.

He turned around and sprinted to the bedrooms. He peeked into Dan's and saw his backpack sitting next to his bed. He then grabbed his phone, unlocked it, and checked the app again. The dot was still at the grocery store.

"That little bitch..." Phil whispered.

"Is there a problem?"

Dan had appeared behind him. Phil locked his phone quickly and hid it behind his back before facing Dan.

"Uh, no." Phil faked a smile. "Everything is perfectly fine."

He then disappeared into his room. Dan didn't know what was bothering Phil- because, clearly, something was bothering him- but he knew that had something to do with him going out while he was gone.

When Phil left his room to take a shower, Dan sneaked in to take a look at the phone he had been hiding behind his back earlier. Dan unlocked it easily. Phil had never been really good at hiding his password.

Dan was greeted with the tracking app and the flashing red dot. At first he was confused, but when he clicked on street view and saw the grocery store he had met Link at a few hours earlier, he couldn't help but sneer.

"What a fucking asshole..." Dan said, still laughing.

He remembered hearing something fall to the ground at the grocery store, but not paying attention to it. It must've been the GPS. That was definitely why the red dot was still flashing in front of the shop and not on their street.

"It's the miracle." Dan added, his grin growing bigger.

~

Unshaven, smelly and tired, Quest had jumped into his car faster than ever when he received a call from Wade.

"He's back." He had said.

Quest parked his car next to the police ones, skipped above the crime scene tape and almost sprinted into the house. Everybody was there, except for Jesus, which had been replaced by Vani Singh, a beautiful forensic Quest had never seen before. But when he got in, he ignored her completely.

"Wade!" He called. "I'm here. Where is it?"

"Over there. Link Maxwell, 29 years old."

Quest followed the direction Wade's finger was pointing and came face to face with the corpse. A man with long hair and a groomed beard was hanging from the ceiling, a cable tightly secured around his injured neck. The flesh on his back had been neatly skinned into two bloody wings, which had been spread gracefully with fishing lines that had been tied around the cable supporting the deceased's body. Finally, Alpha's famous numbers had been sliced onto the cheeks. But, this time, Quest found them odd.

"Twelve?" He said. Everyone around him frowned.

"Twelve what?" Dallas asked.

"The number on his right cheek is twelve! Yet the last Alpha victim we found was Jesus... and it was ten." Quest explained.

The reference to Jesus set an awkward silence in the room. Quest could see Tucker Essex fuming in his corner, ready to pounce at him at any given time.

"Agent Kadner, are you suggesting we missed a body?"

It was Vani Singh. Quest acknowledged her presence for the first time.

"Yes, perhaps!" He exclaimed. "But we would've found it by now! Alpha doesn't hide. He likes to show off! It's not in a sewer somewhere like Agana Baldwin was, it's impossible!"

Dallas' camera clicked.

"Does that confirm our copycat theory, then?" Zarah wondered. "Maybe that's the work of the copycat, and he simply didn't know what murder Alpha was at?"

"No, no, no!" Quest blurted. "I spent an entire week analysing the copycat theory and it doesn't make sense! Everything is similar in every murder, there is no difference and everything follows the pattern. It's impossible for a copycat to know exactly what the real Alpha would do next! It doesn't make sense!"

Quest paced around the scene. All the information didn't correlate and it made him go insane.

"Maybe they know each other? Maybe Alpha tells them how to kill?" Dallas suggested.

"If they did it together, we would have number eleven!" Quest snapped.

"Quest and I think Alpha might be playing with him." Vincent told the others.

Vani Singh nodded, interested.

"Maybe you should just wait for the autopsy results. Who knows, maybe Vincent and Vani will find another DNA?" Zarah said.

"That would complicate things even further!" Quest retorted. "I don't need new unidentified DNA, I need matches. As long as this DNA doesn't match anyone's, it's useless!"

The tension was building itself in the room. Quest sighed deeply and joined his hands together.

"What's bothering me the most right now is the gap between Jesus Harrigan and Link Maxwell. We need to find K!"

"They're probably hidden somewhere..." Dallas sighed.

"No, they're not!" Quest almost screamed. "I said it a billion times; _Alpha does not hide_! If the bodies are well hidden, for the exception of Agana Baldwin, of course, he will make sure somebody can find them easily! The proof is with Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin! He put a severed foot in the street for God's sake, K is _not_ hidden!"

"Well, where is K then?" Zarah asked. "If they're not hidden, why don't we know where they are by now? Alpha wouldn't have skipped someone in his pattern, he's religious about that!"

"No, he wouldn't... You're right..." Quest admitted.

"So it's a copycat then?" Wade asked.

"Still, it doesn't make sense!"

Quest turned to Link Maxwell's corpse.

"Lacerated neck, the trachea is completely split in half, something very common in Alpha's murders; he likes to slice things! Skinned back to form wings and he's hanging from the ceiling, probably representing an ascent to heaven. The wings are probably there to represent an angel. If we follow his pattern of religious stories, this would be the Christ's 'second death'. He ascended to heaven to then sit next to God. But there's a missing piece!"

"Jesus was reborn before going to heaven." Vincent concluded.

"Exactly." Quest said. "This is definitely the work of Alpha. Vincent, he is playing with me... The DNAs... He probably stole it from someone and planted it on one of the corpses. The first DNA isn't his. It was a hair, he could've easily put it there. But the second was skin cells. Jesus fought for his life, Alpha wouldn't have been able to put someone else's DNA there. There's no other explanation."

"I think we should keep the theory of the copycat until we find the letter K." Wade suggested. "If K hasn't been killed yet, that means Alpha screwed up his pattern. And we know this is impossible for him to do so. We'll have to have the body before jumping to any conclusions. He's close to the end, everyone. We have to hurry up."

Everyone nodded except for Quest who grabbed his head with both hands. All of this copycat stuff was messing with his brain and generated the worst headaches. He accepted Wade's words and left the scene with the impression that he was tangling himself in his ropes and that Alpha was slipping right through his fingers.


	28. Chapter 28

The meeting room was becoming way too familiar. Like every time since the beginning of the case, the pictures Dallas had taken had been spread on the table and the forensic results were revealed by Vincent Talley and Vani Singh as everybody listened.

When they were done, Zarah Mello continued with her own results, theories and deductions.

"On the kitchen table were several grocery bags and a huge dog food sack. Considering the amount of bags, I hardly see Link Maxwell bringing all of that home by himself. He doesn't own a car, so he most definitely walked home with all of these, which is impossible. This is what brought me to believe that Alpha helped him carry some of his bags home. I have located the nearest grocery store, it's a few streets down. I thought maybe Quest would want to check it out."

"I will." Quest agreed. "Anything else?"

"No. Alpha- or the copycat- probably already had gloves when they got to Link Maxwell's house because after analysing everything, we found nothing."

"Alright." Quest sighed deeply and massaged his forehead. "So, Link Maxwell's brother comes to his house on Thursday afternoon to give back the dog but then finds him dead, correct?"

Wade nodded.

"I interrogated him and he said Link Maxwell had been out the country for a week with a few of his friends." He explained. "So he took care of his dog during that time. I also talked with the friends he traveled with. They all had no idea of who could've done this and that nobody hated Link Maxwell. So, no suspects yet."

Tucker Essex had been awfully silent since Jesus' death. He had been working on other cases and only filed reports for Alpha's. He persisted on being present at the meetings, even though he wasn't doing much anymore. Quest believed it was simply because he wanted to be the first to drag him when he would fall down. He sat in his chair, staring and judging.

"Okay." Quest said. "Still no sign of K?"

"I'd be the first to tell you." Tucker suddenly spoke.

"Alright, thank you, Agent Essex." Quest replied sarcastically.

Tucker sneered.

"You don't realize it, do you?" He asked. "Do you seriously still think you're going to stop him?"

Quest frowned.

"Yes, I do actually." Quest replied sternly.

Tucker laughed again.

"I have been sitting here since the first murder and we haven't gotten _any_ further." He scoffed. "There are only five people left for Alpha to kill. _Five._ We were at 15 a month ago. We have one suspect, which remains faceless. We have two DNAs, which remain unidentified. We have one dead forensic, an entire terrified population and a loose serial killer. At this rate, they'll all be dead in a week."

The silence that had settled in the room was deafening.

"I hope you realize it's over. You lost, Quest. He won. Alpha won. He knows how to trick you, he knows his way around you. There's no way we're going to find him. You were stupid enough to let him play with you, you sacrificed people, but now it's too late. You waited too long. If he got this far without being caught, he won't make a mistake now. You lost."

Quest glared at him and smiled. He stood up from his chair and looked at Zarah.

"Can you give me the address of the grocery store, please?"

Zarah handed him a small piece of paper with a scribbled address. He mumbled thank you before grabbing his stuff and heading towards the exit without adding a word.

"It's over, Quest!" Tucker shouted before he went through the door.

He turned around and scowled.

"It's over only when I say it."

~

Tuesday had passed in the blink of an eye. Phil had been under the impression that Dan was watching his every move. He hadn't been half wrong, though. Every time he changed room, Dan would either follow him there or go to the nearest room where he could still hear him. He had wanted to go to the grocery store, but with Dan on his heels it was impossible. Instead, he laid in his bed for the rest of Tuesday and slept through the entirety of it.

Consequently, on Wednesday, he woke up earlier than usual. Dan was still asleep, so Phil took the opportunity to watch the footage from the hidden cameras he had put around the house. He had left them around before going to sleep, because since he had lost the GPS, he couldn't track Dan outside anymore. So he wanted to make sure he saw if Dan left during his slumber.

Phil was full of ideas. He had left three cameras: one in the living room, the other in the hallway leading to their bedrooms and the last next to the front door. He had hidden them quite well, behind doors or behind stuff on counters.

When he retrieved the footage, they revealed themselves to be quite disappointing. He saw Dan come and go in the two first cameras, sitting in the living room with his laptop, doing absolutely nothing compromising. He saw him leave to go to his room. He had left his door open so he could see him change clothes and then go back. The third camera hadn't caught anything.

Phil sighed. He watched Dan get up from the sofa and come near the camera. His breath got caught in his throat as he started searching through the stuff the camera was hidden behind. Suddenly, Dan's finger hit the lens. He made a confused noise and crouched to look at what he had touched.

Dan's face appeared in the shot, his eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head and grinned.

"Awesome, Phil." He said to the camera. "Real fucking great."

He then showed his middle fingers to the camera and stood back up.

"How many did you put?" He laughed. "Where are they...?"

He left the frame of the first camera. He could hear him faintly. He suddenly appeared in the second.

"Wait... you must have put one close from here..." He looked up. "Ah, yes, of course, in the cupboard, hello, Phil!"

Phil cringed. He closed the videos without watching the rest of the footage.

"You're so annoying..." Phil mumbled to himself. "Why do all my plans fail so miserably...?"

He put his laptop aside and left his room. He took a shower, got dressed, grabbed his stuff and went outside before Dan could wake up. He was determined to check out the place the GPS had been left at.

After walking for a while, he recognized the sign he had seen on the app. He looked on the pavement. After scanning it for a few minutes, he located his tiny GPS. It had been kicked against the end of the wall. Dan had either taken it off himself, or it had fallen off by itself. Either way, Phil was still angry it hadn't followed him further. Shaking his head, he shoved the device in his pocket.

After he took a deep breath, he entered the building. Phil didn't really know what he was expecting. After all, it was a grocery store.

Feeling a bit out of place, he stepped forward and walked through the aisles. Very average people seemed to visit this place. Nobody looked very suspicious... But Phil continued walking around. He went to the back of the store to see if there was perhaps another door where people could go through to get to another place. There was indeed a door with an "employees only" sign on. There was a small window in the middle, so Phil carefully approached the door and peeked through it. It looked like a very normal back store.

Sighing, he went back to the front of the store and walked up to one of the cashiers.

"Hi, sorry, do you rent this place sometimes?" He asked.

"What?" The girl behind the counter frowned. "This is a grocery store, sir."

"Yes, but, do you have like a second floor or a basement to rent?"

"I don't think so..." She replied, slightly weirded out by his question.

Feeling embarrassed, Phil thanked her and headed straight for the front door. But humiliating himself in front of the cashier wasn't enough. He had to bump head first into someone that was coming into the shop.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" He apologised. "I'm didn't s-"

He stopped talking. He knew this face. Phil's throat dried up completely and his muscles tensed. It was Quest Kadner, the detective he had met at the crime scene with Dan a few weeks earlier.

"Hey, I know you!" Quest exclaimed after taking a few moments analysing Phil.

"D-do you?" Phil replied with a shaky voice. Quest was very intimidating. Phil couldn't shake the vivid description of the crime the detective had given him the last time they had met, and he didn't want to be there anymore.

"Yeah, you came to one of the crime scenes a few weeks ago with your weird emo friend- oh what was his name...?"

Quest put his fingers on his chin and seemed to dive into his memories. Phil stood there, uncomfortable and anxious, waiting for Quest to say something.

"I met him at a bar not long after that... Ah! Yes, Rupert!"

Phil's brows furrowed. Rupert? Was he talking about... Dan?

"Rupert?" Phil asked, confused.

"Yes, you two came to Emily Fontaine's crime scene and you were very curious to know what had happened. You even helped me figure some things out. Thanks again for that."

He was really talking about Dan, then. But why was he calling him Rupert?

A few things clicked in Phil's brain. _"Oh..."_

"Oh, yeah, me and _Rupert..."_ Phil decided to play along. He needed to know more. "You said you met him at a bar?"

"Yeah, not long after you two came. Did he not tell you?"

"No, unfortunately." Phil whispered. He remembered Dan's breath smelling of alcohol the night he had followed him out. "Do you know what he was doing there?"

"Uh, well, when I got there he was just drinking." Quest said.

"Was he with anyone?" Phil asked again.

"No, I don't think so." Quest replied. "Why so many questions?"

"Uh, no reason." Phil lied.

Quest squinted his eyes. He considered Phil, scanning him from up and down. He thought he was acting a bit strange. He noticed his unmissable purple coat with galaxy motifs on it.

"I don't think I know your name." Quest pointed out.

"Um, I'm, uh, I'm Phil... Philip. Phil."

He nodded.

"So, is _Rupert_ good?" Quest continued after looking at Phil for what felt forever.

Phil hesitated. "Oh, um, fine... He's, erm, great."

Quest didn't seem convinced. His happy features hardened and became more serious. Phil's heart started pounding hard against his chest.

"Are you okay?" Quest wondered. "You seem a bit nervous."

"Nervous? Ah, no, I'm fine, perfectly fine." He coughed. "So, um, what brings you here? Aren't you busy busting criminals and stuff?"

Phil had a nervous laugh. Quest didn't miss it.

"Uh, no actually. I'm here for a case. This was the last place one of Alpha's victims was seen at."

Phil felt like someone had punched him square in the face. His heart swelled up and his breath got so heavy he thought he would faint.

"Hey, you sure you're alright?" Quest asked, grabbing Phil by the shoulder since he looked as he was about to collapse.

"Fine, I'm fine..." Phil managed to breathe. "I have... I have to... I've got to g-go..."

Before Quest could say a word, Phil scooted out the door.

"Say hi to Rupert for me..." Quest said, but Phil was already out of sight.

He didn't really know how to interpret this encounter. He massaged his temple and approached the cashier Phil had just interrogated. He showed his badge and she opened wide eyes.

"Agent Kadner, I'm here about the death of Link Maxwell. He was here two days ago around 8PM. I would like to talk to someone who was working at that time and also have a look at your security cameras."

~

Phil didn't stop running until he reached the park. It was a few streets down his apartment, and it was always where he went when he needed to be alone.

He leaned on his favorite bench as he panted violently. He put his hand on his pounding heart. He felt like it would rip open his chest and jump out onto the ground. His throat was so dry he thought he had swallowed a billion razor blades and his entire face was covered in a thick layer of sweat, making his swollen red face glisten under the morning sun. His lungs threatened to explode every time he inhaled. They were burning so badly they could've been mistaken for bonfires. He stripped his coat off his body and threw it behind him.

Phil's knees were shaking so badly he felt like he was holding the weight of the whole wide world on his shoulders. His thoughts were racing, it was such a chaos that he thought his head was slowly inflating, becoming heavier and heavier by the second. Phil attempted to stand up by removing his hand from the bench, but his whole body had become so numb that his knees couldn't hold and he fell forward.

His body hit the ground in a muffled noise but he didn't feel anything. He weakly put himself on all fours in a lame attempt at getting up. His thoughts were bumping against each other so hard that Phil felt like his already inflating head had set fire and was just awaiting to burst. And suddenly, his thoughts focused on one thing. The thing he had ran away from since the moment he had left the grocery store a few minutes ago.

He screamed. The sound that came out of his mouth was full of terror. The scream unleashed every thought he had, the complete mess his mind was at that exact moment, it flowing out of his mouth in a noise that would leave you paralyzed. A scream so heartbreaking, a scream for help, a scream coming straight from the soul, full of pain and full of fear, betrayed and bruised. He kept screaming, feeling tears sliding down his eyes onto the ground, feeling his body being swallowed by darkness, his brain by panic and his screams by despair. His breath had increased pace and the air got caught in his lungs. Every limb trembled like a leaf trying to support his sobbing body. The lump in his throat was so big but it didn't stop him from screaming again and again. Clutching his throbbing heart, his screams slowly turned into loud sobs. He managed to sit and lean his back against the bench. His eyes were blurry with salty tears and nothing in that moment could've made him feel better.

 _"I'm here for a case. This was the last place one of Alpha's victims was seen at."_ Quest Kadner's words were echoing in his mind, making him shake even more.

Phil didn't want to believe it. But it made so much sense now... Dan leaving the house so late and for so long, Dan not wanting to talk about what he did outside, Dan having weird daydreams, Dan's video about psycho thoughts, the GPS left at the grocery store, the numbers carved on his wall, the things hidden in his room, his indifference to Alpha, the excitement about crime scenes, his weird sleep talking, his aggressiveness, the lies, the gloves...

_"Death... torture... Fate... Sin..."_

Phil turned around and vomited behind a bush near the bench. His wiped his mouth with a shaky hand and slowly stood up on his weak legs.

Dan was... No. Phil shook his head vigorously. This had to be a coincidence. A big, big coincidence. Yes, Dan's behavior was just due to his depression and addictions. Nothing else...

Nothing else.

After gaining control over his body again, Phil left the park and headed back to the flat. He kept telling himself this was all just a very big coincidence, but he couldn't lie to himself for long.

He didn't want to believe it until he could be sure.

~

Feet up on the table and a coffee in his left hand, Quest was watching the footage from the security camera at the grocery store. The cashier he had talked to earlier had introduced him to a teenager that had been working at the same time as Link Maxwell's visit.

"He bought a lot of stuff." The teenager had said. "I helped him get his dog food bag out, but I had to stay here so I couldn't help him all the way to his house. He waited next to the door for a good twenty minutes, got rejected by two people before someone helped him."

Quest had asked for a physical description, but just like Rad, the teenager at the cinema, this one couldn't remember.

On the footage, he could see Link waiting outside the shop. Though, the camera angle could only see from the chest down.

But Quest had a lot in mind. His encounter with Phil had left him with an uncanny feeling. Phil had acted very strangely. He remembered the look of confusion on his face when he had mentioned Rupert. His voice had been shaky and he had seemed very nervous. He couldn't forget how he had almost ran out of the shop when he had said why he was at the grocery store.

On the video, a pair of legs approached Link Maxwell. Quest put his feet down and looked closely at the screen. The person stopped next to him. His outfit was all black and he had a backpack on his shoulders. When he grabbed the dog food bag, he saw his head from behind. For the first time, he wasn't wearing his hood. When he saw his brown hair, Quest paused the video and grabbed his head with both hands.

"Oh my God..."

Everything seemed to make sense in his head. Every locked door in his mind seemed to open magically. He knew that head, he had seen it before, many times. The past month played like a movie in fast forward in his mind. As the memories flowed back at him, his smile grew bigger as his hand tightened itself around Alpha's neck.

"It's Rupert..." He whispered to himself, his eyes glowing with satisfaction.

He remembered the time he had seen him at Emily Fontaine's crime scene with Phil. He had found him mysterious, and there was something in his eyes he couldn't comprehend. He then he had seen him again at a bar, and they had talked... about Alpha! And now he realized, the two people he had seen at the tower bridge that he thought he had recognized... It was them! And they had ran away from him! And now he finally had met Phil alone and he had acted in a bizarre way, and seemed uncomfortable with the mention of Rupert. And he was wearing that purple galaxy coat...

Quest grabbed the footage and ran out the room without thanking the cashier that had helped him. He jumped in his car and rode immediately to the hospital.

~

His throat tight and his hands shaking, Phil stepped into the apartment. He put one foot in front of the other quietly by fear Dan could possibly hear him. The place was painfully silent, so Phil deduced he was still asleep. But when he walked past the living room and saw him sat on the sofa, his heart stopped beating and his breath caught in his throat. He stepped forward slowly to walk past unnoticed, but the floor creaked under his weight.

"Phil?" Dan asked in the room.

The color drained from his skin. Swallowing hard, he entered the room and spoke in a hoarse voice:

"It's me."

He looked at Dan. He was on the sofa, his laptop on his lap and a mug of coffee in his right hand. He seemed so peaceful... so innocent. He remembered Quest's words and he gagged.

"Wow, are you alright?" Dan asked, worried.

He put his laptop aside and stood up from the sofa. Phil put a hand over his mouth, feeling the nausea from earlier strike him once more. As Dan approached, Phil's brain couldn't help the images of him he was trying to avoid from flowing.

"Phil?" Dan repeated, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me..." Phil managed to breathe through his dizziness.

Dan's hand retreated and confusion took him over.

"What's wrong, Ph-"

But he was already out the room. He sprinted to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. Dan had followed him and appeared in the doorframe.

"Oh, my God!" He exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

He leaned forward to step in the bathroom but Phil put his hand up and screamed:

"No! Go away!"

Dan scoffed. It was his chance to show Phil how fucking annoying it was to have someone nagging you when you're feeling like shit and you don't want help. He entered the bathroom and crouched next to Phil.

"Are you okay? Do you need to talk? Tell me what's wrong?! Phil, you need help! It's obvious! Look at you! You're depressed! Oh, no! Did you take too many drugs?! Phil! Why the _fuck_ would you do that? Where did you go earlier, huh? Did you go drink? Did you go to a whorehouse? How dare you, Phil! Tell me everything! Tell me every single thing that bothers you, please, let me crawl inside your head like a little ant and scavenge for clues to understand what you're living right now! Perhaps let me spy on you, I cou-"

Dan fell backwards and landed on his side. He felt like his nose had increased ten sizes and he grabbed it with both hands, hissing painfully. He looked at his fingers covered in a string of blood oozing from his nostril.

"What the fuck?!" He exclaimed, looking at Phil, whose fist was still in the air and anger was pumping through his veins.

Phil's fist met Dan's face for a second time. He was propelled backwards again, but when he tasted the blood in his mouth, he stood up swiftly and kicked his foot to Phil's head. He fell against the bathtub in a loud noise and Dan grabbed him by the collar. He held up his fist and crashed it on Phil's jaw. He raised it again, ready to punch Phil in the eye, but a pain in his stomach made him curl up on himself. Phil's knee met his already bruised nose and he moaned in pain.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Phil's leg. His other foot was in the air, ready to kick him again, but before he did, Dan pulled on his ankle. Phil lost his balance and fell forward on the bathroom floor. Dan stood up in a swift movement, clutched the fabric of Phil's shirt, banged his head against the floor, then lifted him up and rammed his body on the wall. He stared at his face for a few seconds, noticing a long cut on his brow bone.

Phil was panting and his eyes were wet. His lips started shaking when he realized Dan was ready to continue the fight.

But instead of hitting him again, Dan let go of him and stepped back slowly. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed forever, one terrified, the other threatening, before Dan bowed down gracefully and left the bathroom.

Phil, still up against the wall, ran to the toilet and threw up for a third time.

~

"I'VE GOT HIM! I'VE GOT HIM!"

Quest ran up the corridor and burst into the meeting room. The whole team was still there, analysing Link Maxwell's case.

"What?!" Zarah asked, hopeful.

"I've got him!" Quest repeated triumphantly.

"Are you serious?!" Dallas exclaimed.

He nodded his head vigorously. He threw the grocery store's security camera video on the table and started explaining, the hype from earlier still pumping through his veins.

"I went to the grocery store and had a look at the footage. I saw the same black hooded man, except for the fact that he did not have his hood on." He explained hurriedly. "I've seen him before, many times, and it all makes perfect sense now, because every time I saw him, I was on duty for Alpha!"

"Who is it?" Vani Singh asked. "Do you have a name?"

"I have a name, but I realized an hour ago it's a fake one." Quest replied. "I met him at a bar not long after Emily Fontaine's death and he told me he was called Rupert."

"Alright, doesn't matter, we can still find him." Wade said.

"That's not all." Quest continued. "He's most definitely Alpha. But I think I figured out our DNA problem. See, Alpha has a friend. I met him too. In fact, he was at the grocery store earlier. I had seen them together at Emily Fontaine's crime scene. They wanted to know what had happened. He looked really nervous to see me, and acted very strangely. He said he was called Philip, and I'm pretty sure he was saying the truth. But, the best part is that he was wearing the exact coat one of the officers described in the Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin case. He said he had seen a man with a purple coat with galaxy motifs walking away with the two victims. He was wearing it."

"So you're saying he's the copycat?" Zarah wondered.

"See, I still don't think he's a copycat!" Quest explained. "Alpha wouldn't let anyone do his work, he's too religious about that. No, maybe Philip is helping him... It might be unconscious, but he is. Maybe 'Rupert' threatens him, we know he's insane, he wouldn't hesitate to take someone hostage and force them to lead us in different paths or plant fake evidence."

"Well, is Philip guilty, then?" Vincent asked.

"By the look of it, no." Quest replied. "He seemed too nervous to see me, if he wasn't threatened, or if he had been willing to participate in Alpha's shenanigans, he would've acted casually. He would've known 'Rupert' talked to me loads of times without looking suspicious, so he would've been confident too. But even the first time I saw them, he looked very nervous and out of place. He didn't want to be there. Alpha is probably using Philip to blur his trace, he wants to lead us to him so he still has time to finish off his pattern. He's buying time. No, we're definitely looking for Rupert."

"But we're not 100% sure that Philip is innocent." Dallas mentioned.

"We've profiled Alpha enough to know he did all of this on his own. He would not let his credit go to someone else." Quest assured. "We found the second DNA at Guy Hurell and Howie Ikin's crime scene, and the description of Alpha changed during that same crime. He was probably wearing Philip's coat and left a hair of his behind!"

Dallas nodded and smiled widely. He couldn't believe they were finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel.

"Alright, Kadner, not too fast." Tucker interrupted. "All of that is great, but you forget one small detail. K."

The room fell silent once more.

"If Alpha is so religious about his pattern and that there's no copycat, where is K?"

Quest sighed.

"I'm still working on that." He replied quietly. "Maybe K was killed before L and  they're hiding it for a specific reason. I don't know."

Tucker scoffed but Quest ignored him. Wade turned to him.

"How do you want to proceed?" He asked.

"I want it to be discreet. We have to get him from behind. We can't get to Philip because Alpha is probably watching his every single move. If we get to him, he'll have the time to throw him at us and run away."

"Can you find him?" He asked.

"Uh, well, I don't know his real name and I don't know where he lives." Quest admitted.

"Do you remember what he looks like? We could get a portrait done."

"Uh..." Quest dug in his memory. He remembered his face very vaguely. "I know he's got brown hair and a fringe... But, honestly, he had one of the most average faces I've ever seen..."

He grabbed the sides of his head with both hands to try and remember.

"I remember very few details, it was a while ago..." Quest scratched the back of his head. He remembered having headaches every time he saw Rupert or thought about him.

"Oh, my God..." He whispered.

"What is it?" Wade asked.

"The headaches, Wade..."

Wade closed his eyes slowly and buried his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, but... what?" Zarah said, confused by the looks of defeat on the two agents' faces.

"Quest has terrible headaches and memory loss from time to time." Wade explained very briefly.

"I had them every time I thought about Rupert or saw him." Quest added, feeling panic overcome him. "I thought it was over..."

"How can you have that?" Dallas questioned, intrigued. "I mean... you're a detective!"

"I had an accident." He simply said.

"Another proof you can't trust the MI5!" Tucker spat. "You ask for their help for the case of a serial killer and they send you a detective with bloody memory loss!"

"Look, alright, Quest is a good detective and he has proved to be completely functional regardless of his injury, so please, can you shut the fuck up for once?" Wade exclaimed.

He scoffed.

"Agent Kadner, you said you met this said 'Rupert' and his friend Philip at Emily Fontaine's crime scene for the first time, correct?" Vani Singh asked.

"Yes." He replied.

"Well, then, you are probably not the only person to have seen them. There must have been at least someone else in this team to have seen their faces!"

"Of course, yes!" Quest exclaimed. But then he remembered. "But the thing is... the only person from the team I called over to talk to them was Jesus..."

A collective sigh was heard across the room. But Vincent, who had stayed awfully quiet, suddenly spoke.

"Quest, we don't have enough proof to incriminate this Rupert you're talking about."

Dallas' jaw dropped. "He's right..."

"On the tapes he has his hood on and you only realized it was him after seeing Philip and the back of his head." He continued. "The DNAs we have don't match anyone's, let alone Rupert's, if we can't prove that it belongs to him, even if you find him, we can't arrest him... And the proofs we already have are technically not enough to consider this particular person as a suspect! Anyone could have black clothes and brown hair! And, no offense, but, with your memory loss and Jesus gone... Who can actually prove Rupert and Philip were there at Emily Fontaine's crime scene...?"

Quest massaged his forehead.

"You're right." He sighed. He thought for a few seconds. "Okay, this is what we're going to do then. See, I've thought about it a lot before and I've had a realization that Alpha would want to see me before he finishes his pattern. He would want to brag, for sure. And since he's a very symbolic guy, he'll want to see me at the same place we met before."

"What do you suggest?" Wade asked.

"We wire me. We put a camera at the bar, and I go back. He'll be there, I'm sure of it. Philip saw me, Rupert will know about it. He _will_ be there."

Wade nodded. They all looked uncertain, but it was their last chance at catching Alpha before it was too late.

"When he leaves, someone will follow him from a safe distance. This way we'll know where he lives, or where he hangs out. I'll make sure he leaves before me, so then I can grab his glass. We'll have his DNA and we'll be able to match it to one we already have."

"I want to be the stalker." Zarah said after Quest was done. "If someone gets to know where that son of a bitch lives, I want to be the first."

Quest agreed.

"The rest of you will monitor everything. Wade and I will go set everything up, we'll call you when we're ready. In the meanwhile, focus on finding K."


	29. Chapter 29

He hissed. Phil soaked his cloth with water again and pressed it against the cut above his eye. He admired the skin that was slowly turning a purplish color on his jaw and his forehead.

He had only witnessed Dan's aggressiveness in more subtle ways before. But this time, he hadn't even tried to hide it, or hadn't even been apologetic for it. He had shown him his strength and aggressiveness in its purest form and in the most direct way.

That was the difference between Dan and Phil. He was only realizing it now. Phil was strong mentally, slithering around and crawling in people's heads to get what he wanted, and Dan was strong physically, establishing his dominance by the wrath of his fists. They both inhabited these descriptions, but one clearly had more of the other.

As he grunted at the pain in his face, Phil couldn't help but play their fight over and over again in his head. He remembered thinking a few weeks ago that Dan's behavior had changed. He remembered asking him if he had always bottled up his emotions and let them burst at any moments. This was a perfect example.

Of course, he had initiated the fight, but the violence with which Dan had continued had been so surprising Phil still couldn't comprehend it. He remembered why he had punched him in the first place and scoffed.

"Nope." Phil told his reflection. "Nope, nope, nope, nope." He laughed nervously. "This is _not_ happening... _Coincidence..._ "

Phil had yet to prove himself right. The facts were under his nose, but he deliberately chose to ignore them. Without his own proofs, he would continue to deny everything he had deduced from his encounter with Quest Kadner. He would keep digging until he hit rock bottom.

He unclogged the sink and let the water go down the drain. Phil left the bathroom and looked around. Dan wasn't there, he was probably in the living room. It was better this way, if they had seen each other at that moment they would probably have initiated a second fight. They didn't need it.

He took a turn to go to his room and, to his delight, noticed Dan's was empty. He entered it carefully, as if his feet would get blown off by a landmine at any second. He stood there silently for a few seconds, listening to the sounds upstairs to see if Dan had moved. It didn't seem so.

Alongside with the GPS device, Phil had ordered a small sound recorder. After fetching it in his bedroom, he laid down on the ground, lifted the sheets and put the device so it was under the bed and would capture his every words, but in a way that Dan wouldn't be able to see it.

After making sure about three times it was on, he left the room without hearing Dan move in the living room. He then disappeared into his own and tried to suppress the fight from his mind.

~

The day passed slowly. The pain kept pouncing Phil's face and everything he had to do was painful. He didn't leave his room until his tummy started rumbling with hunger. He hadn't noticed the sun had set.

He got himself something in the kitchen and dared to enter the living room. There was nothing wrong with Dan! No deduction or no detective could tell him there was. No. He was his best friend, and he loved him.

He stroked the bruise on his jaw as he entered the room and shoved down the uneasiness that had automatically seized him.

Dan sat on the sofa with his laptop on his lap, as usual. Again, he looked peaceful and Phil could've smiled. But the bruises on his face and the memory of the fight brought him down to Earth. He pulled a chair and sat at the table quietly. On the television screen played the news, which Dan half watched above his computer screen.

"Hey..." Phil dared.

Dan had a weird short laugh. It was halfway between mockery and shock.

"Hey." He then said.

Phil thought Dan would expect him to talk about the fight, but he wouldn't. He would act just as if nothing had ever happened.

Phil took a bite of his food and sunk into his chair. The silence that had fell was weighing on his shoulders like a thousand bricks. After a few minutes of figuring out what he would say, Phil opened his mouth but he was cut by Dan increasing the sound of the TV. He closed it and listened to the news anchor.

_"Yet another body has been discovered in London tonight, work of infamous Alpha, the serial killer we have been covering for the course of the last few weeks. As we have mentioned before, Alpha is known for his odd killing pattern, which consists of murdering in alphabetical order. The aggressiveness of his attacks has also been noticed, leaving unattractive and unrecognizable corpses behind. The MI5 has been involved in this case for a little over a month now, but still no consistent evidence has been found to identify a suspect. Last victim, Link Maxwell, was found dead in his apartment this Tuesday in yet again a strange way. The 27 year old was out buying groceries when he got followed and murdered. He is believed to be Alpha's 11th victim, but one of his victims, which should bear a name starting with K, still hasn't been found..."_

Phil was staring at the screen intensely and holding the fork in his hand so tight it could've ripped his skin. When the anchorman changed to a different story, Dan's head slowly turned in Phil's direction. He stared at him, but when he saw that Phil wasn't about to comment on the news, he spoke for him.

"Weren't you terrified by that before?" He asked. "How can you be so passive?"

"By what?" Phil replied stupidly.

"Alpha."

The word in Dan's mouth sounded so weird to Phil's ears that a long and uncomfortable shiver slid down his spine.

"I used to." Phil said, his eyes still stuck on the TV screen. "But, like you said before, as long as I'm with you, I have nothing to fear... right?"

His eyes finally left the screen and stared directly into Dan's. The odd glimmer he had questioned before was bigger than ever and it took every bit of him not to look away. Dan's eyes were so hard to read, every emotion that could possibly be translated in a person's eyes were displayed all at once in his. Phil could have sworn he saw him smirk before he replied:

"Of course."

They both unconsciously caressed their bruises. Phil shifted uncomfortably on his chair and fought the nausea that was seizing him again.

Dan didn't miss Phil's discomfort. He smirked to himself, put his laptop aside, grabbed his phone and walked to the door. He waved arrogantly at Phil before going to his room, grabbing his backpack and his penknife and leaving the apartment after applying delicately some of Louise's foundation, which she had been kind enough to give him. He was ready to prove Phil that as long as he was with him, oh, he _would_ be safe.

~

_"But, like you said before, as long as I'm with you, I have nothing to fear... right?"_

The words kept repeating themselves in Dan's head as, once again, his subconscious led him into the night. Phil had been odd today. He was usually never physical, so when his fist had punched Dan, he had been completely surprised.

But that's what he got for fighting with the Great Alpha. The last person to have done that had ended up on a stake. Phil could consider himself lucky.

He had noticed Phil's uneasiness and the fight was a first. Dan could deduce a few things from this, but he was so close to finishing his pattern that Phil shoving his nose where it didn't belong didn't really matter anymore. He just wanted to get to the end.

_"But, like you said before, as long as I'm with you, I have nothing to fear... right?"_

The news about Link had made him feel even prouder. He couldn't believe he was so close to reaching his goals and that Quest Kadner wasn't even been close to finding him. He grinned. He would have to see him before he ended. Oh, yes. See his face, his devastated face of defeated detective. Dan wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

While he was thinking about Quest, he hadn't realized where his feet had taken him. He raised his head and noticed a luminous sign that seemed familiar. It displayed "Storm". Dan smirked. The memory of Bradley Cox's corpse flopping to the bottom of the dumpster in the dark alley right next to this nightclub resurfaced. His chest felt well.

He walked past the building and the crowd of people trying to get in. As he continued his path, still lost in thought, he was suddenly dragged away from them when he heard giggling behind him. He frowned and turned around subtly.

There were two young women following him from a distance. When he met their gaze, they giggled louder. Confused, he kept walking, but he realized they got closer and were still chuckling and whispering to each other. The luminous sign from the nightclub was now a few streets back and the people around were getting rarer.

Dan stopped abruptly and turned around. The two women did the same.

"Can I help you?" Dan asked politely.

The two burst out laughing. Dan noticed they were quite tipsy.

"Sure, you could!" One of them replied. She sniggered to her friend and walked a bit closer. "You're kinda cute, want to take us home?"

Dan took his penknife out of his pocket, switched the blade and pushed one of the girls to the ground with all his might. He straddled her and stabbed his knife directly in her forehead, feeling rage pump through his veins. The second girl screamed and ran away, but Dan pulled out the knife and threw it accurately in her direction, and the blade jammed itself on the back of her head. She flopped down weakly.

_"Sixteen..."_

Dan had small laugh.

"Oh, so you were following me so we could have a threesome? That's romantic." He exclaimed sarcastically. "Usually, I do the following."

They giggled again. They both got even closer.

"Oh, yeah?" The other asked. "Does it ever end in good threesomes?"

"No..." Dan replied, acting like he was disappointed. "Most of them usually end up dead..."

They burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah?" The first one asked, her contagious laughter still staining her speech. "What do you do so they end up dead? Are you Alpha or something?"

The girls guffawed. Dan joined them before answering:

"I actually am!"

And the laughter grew bigger.

"Well I'm Muna!" The first said through all the laughing. "And she's Nitika! Are you going to murder us tonight?"

She winked.

"Of course!" Dan exclaimed, still laughing uproariously.

Drying their tears of laughter, Muna and Nitika grabbed Dan by the arm and led him up to their house.

When Muna closed the door behind them, she started unbuttoning her shirt. Nitika noticed her move and turned to Dan for approval. He nodded and she pulled her shirt over her head.

Dan took the time to look around him. He noticed several plants on the windowsill, a bottle of wine and three glasses on a table in the kitchen next door, several paintings, a few chairs, books...

When they were both shirtless, Dan indicated them to step forward. Smirking, the two girls obeyed.

"Turn around." Dan ordered when they were close enough.

Once again, they did as they were told. With both of his hands, Dan gently caressed them from their necks to their backs. But when the girls thought Dan was about to unhook their bras, he grabbed both of their heads and rammed them into each other with all the strength he had. They fell unconscious to his feet, and Dan rolled his eyes.

"Idiots." He scoffed.

~

"Everything is set up." Quest and Wade had made it back to the hospital, where the whole team was waiting to start the operation. "Still no news from K?"

"Sadly not." Dallas replied.

"That's okay, we'll catch him." Quest reassured. "Okay, time to wire me."

Tucker gave Wade the microphone and the earpiece that would be hidden on Quest. He neatly put it on him and Quest then proceeded to recapitulate their plan.

"I go in and wait for him. I let out a word or two about Alpha to see if he has anything to say about it. Then I wait for him to leave and grab his glass so we can sample his DNA. In the meanwhile, the cameras will capture every move, and the microphone will record everything. You guys will monitor all of this, while Zarah waits outside to get a signal for when he leaves. You then follow him and note down the address. If it's safe to get in, please do so."

They all nodded.

"Let's catch this bastard." Quest exclaimed firmly.

~

When Muna awoke, she was confused. She didn't know where she was and she suddenly felt very cold. She looked to her left, and saw her friend, Nitika, tied up on a chair, shirtless and unconscious. Her senses came back slowly and panic seized her when she realized what was happening.

Dan, sitting on a chair in front of both of the girls, had been patiently waiting for them to wake up. When he saw Muna start wriggling and breathing hard, he grinned.

"Awake at last." He said.

Muna raised her head and saw Dan. She remembered the moment she thought he was going to unhook her bra and what had actually followed. She screamed weakly through the gag in her mouth.

"There's no point in screaming." Dan reassured. "You're not really equipped to do so, and no one will come."

Muna glanced at Nitika again. Her head was still hanging down.

"Oh, don't worry about her." Dan said. "She's not dead... yet."

Muna groaned.

"But she could use some help waking up. I've been waiting too long now. I have stuff to do."

Dan stood up slowly. He approached Nitika and Muna protested with whines. He put his hand up and gracefully swung it, hitting her face so hard that the sound of his flesh on hers could've been heard from miles away.

Muna gasped in shock and her eyes filled with tears. Nitika jerked awake, moaning in pain. She looked from Dan to Muna, to her knees and to Muna again.

"Good. You're awake."

He turned around and sat back down on his chair, crossing his legs, then his arms over his chest and stared at his victims with deadly eyes.

"You guys must be really stupid." Dan finally said after staring at them silently.

They squirmed fruitlessly through the tight hold of the ropes.

"I straight up tell you I'm Alpha and I'm going to kill you and you walk directly into the wolf's mouth!"

Dan uncrossed his legs and put his elbows on his knees.

"But that was meant to be."

He adjusted the gloves on his hands and sighed deeply.

"I'm not much of a chatter before my murders." Dan admitted coldly. "But I do it when it's necessary. And right now is one of those times."

The two friends looked at each other, worried. Dan stood from his chair and raised his head. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, then joined his hands behind his back and smiled.

"The end is near!" He exclaimed, grinning. "My pattern is coming to an end."

Nitika squirmed and squealed through her gag. Muna was sitting still, heavy drops of sweat sliding off her forehead.

 _"Muna and Nitika..."_ He hissed. The names rolled in his mouth, they rested so well on his tongue that he couldn't help slip them out after every sentence.

"You will be two of my three angels..."

Nitika struggled harder against her ropes. She was stomping her feet, shrieking to no end and big tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Dan felt something stir in his chest. It was excitement. _The voice_ had taken control over every inch of him, and his dilated pupils only showed the void in which Dan's soul was lost. With every blink he sunk further in the hole and forgot the purest form living within him. With every word he lost his sanity and damn, it felt great.

"Revelation 14, The Three Angels..."

His eyes were beaming with desire and evilness, the power was prowling around his toes, ready to climb up his entire body and set itself in his brain. He could sense it in every extremities and nothing could've convinced him he wasn't on top of the world.

"You will deliver my message to prepare the world for my coming..."

He approached Muna and delicately placed his hand on her cheek. She snapped out of her immobility and started wiggling away from his touch. Dan grabbed her by the neck and squeezed to keep her in place.

 _"Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth—to every nation, tribe, language and people..."_ Dan recited, his grip around her neck getting tighter. _"He said in a loud voice, 'Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come. Worship him who made the new heavens and earth."_

Nitika was hysterical on the other chair. Dan let go of Muna and licked his lips evilly. He approached Nitika and grasped her hair strongly. He held it back as far as he could as she continued whining and crying. He kept reciting in a voice that was new to him, a voice that could only translate madness. His pupils only got wider as he drank the insanity of his unconscious.

_"A second angel followed and said, 'Fallen! Fallen are the rules, which made all the nations drink the maddening wine of her laws and justice."_

He let go of her hair and returned to his chair. He admired his angels again and raised his chin.

"The new God- Alpha is coming. You will let everyone know." Dan smiled devilishly.

He pulled his penknife from his pocket and switched the blade. The two girls automatically started whimpering and struggling harder. Muna was trying to articulate words through her gag.

"What is it, _Muna_?" Dan sneered.

She continued to utter through her gag while Dan held out his ear.

"I can't hear you!" He replied, shrugging.

But she wouldn't stop. Sighing, he approached her and pulled her gag down. He delicately brandished his knife in front of her.

"What kind of fucking sick joke are you?" Muna exploded. "Who the fuck do you think you are?! You're not God! And you will never be!"

Dan rolled his eyes.

"Nobody is going to take your stupid face seriously, you're a fucking joke! A God preaches love and peace! What the fuck do you even preach?! What will people get out of your idiotic religion?! Nothing, BECAUSE YOU ARE A JOKE!"

The blade got dangerously close to Muna's eyeball.

"Do you think this is a joke right now, _Muna_?" Dan asked. "Do you think I will stop myself from stabbing you straight in the eyeball just because I want to scare you?"

He crouched to be at the same level as her.

"Do you _seriously_ think that twelve corpses on your record is a joking matter?"

He snickered.

"Actually, yes, it's pretty funny. Jokes are funny, right? Twelve victims and still going, makes you wonder how great the police actually is."

Her eyes were harsh and wet. She felt sick just looking at him.

"I will be the reason why this world isn't restricted anymore. I will be the reason why people will be free, truly free. I am not God, you are right. But the people... They will make me _their_ god, _Muna_."

Without thinking, Muna spat in Dan's face. He closed his eyes as the saliva landed on his skin. He stood up slowly, still smiling and his eyes still closed. He wiped the spit with the outside of his sleeve, walked to the windowsill and grabbed a pot in which a bunch of blue flowers rested. With all his strength, he threw it at Muna's head.

She howled in pain as dirt covered her hair and face and the pot cut open her forehead. Nitika was trembling like a sheet next to her, tears falling on her knees in heavy drops.

Dan ran back up to Muna and stabbed his blade in her eye. He shoved two fingers in her throat to prevent her from yelling again.

"You will deliver my message, whether you like it or not..." Dan murmured, screwing his knife deeper.

After putting back her gag, he crouched again, leaving the knife in Muna's eye socket, and grabbed her ankle. Pushing against it with one hand, he pulled as hard as he could with the other in one swift movement. The crack of her bone made Nitika so hysterical that she fell backwards with her chair.

Dan did the same to Muna's other ankle, her screams so shrill that without the gag perhaps the cops would've already knocked at the door. After hearing the satisfying cracking sound, he stood back up and looked at her directly in the eye.

"Do you still think I'm a joke? Want to spit in my face again, _Muna_? Come on, I'm kinky too! Do it!"

She weakly nodded no.

"That's a shame."

Dan retrieved his knife, earning a whimper from the woman. He opened her mouth with his fingers and placed the bloody blade on the inner corner.

"If you're going to deliver my message to everyone," he explained, "your mouth has to be big enough to let all the words out..."

And without warning, he cut her skin, following the outline of the gag. The blood oozed from her injured flesh, and he licked hungrily the droplets that smeared his gloves. He then followed the same procedure on the other side of her mouth.

He stepped back and admired his work. Muna wasn't really yelling anymore. She was quietly protesting, the pain so excruciatingly bad that she was on the verge of fainting.

Dan then approached again and placed his blade on her cheek. He engraved them with his famous mark.

"Beautiful..." He whispered when he stepped back for the second time. _"Nitika!"_

Dan rushed to her side. She had thrown up, and since she had fallen on her back, she was beginning to choke on it. Dan hastily put her chair back in place.

" _Nitika,_ come on, choking on your own vomit would make a very unattractive corpse!"

He laughed scornfully. Nitika, still sobbing, managed to articulate through her gag.

"Kill me..." She begged. "Kill me quick... Please..."

Dan laughed louder.

"No, _Nitika_... Killing painlessly is for the weak, the cowards and those full of remorse. I am none of these."

Dan walked away from her, which only caused her sobbing to get more violent.

"Why would you run away from this opportunity, _Nitika?_ " Dan asked as he grabbed the wine bottle that had been left on the kitchen table. "The opportunity of feeling pain, of feeling alive, of knowing that you will be a part of something great? This pain will remind your soul of what cause you served, for the rest of eternity. Your pain will help this world improve, let the future generations live as free as one can be, without the rules, without justice, without _anything!_ _Why would you want to run away from that, Nitika?_ We all die one day or another, why not enjoy pain while it lasts?"

With the bottle in his hand, he walked back towards her.

"Pain is the only feeling that makes a human feel truly alive. Because pain comes from everything, pain is everywhere. When you're fine, you feel pain every day without really acknowledging it. It's only when you start feeling numb that you realize you would do anything just to feel _something."_

He raised the wine bottle above his head and crashed it on Nitika's face. It shattered with the shock and the wine poured all over her, the shards cutting through her skin to lodge themselves comfortably.

" _That_ is pain, _Nitika!"_ Dan exclaimed. "That hurts, doesn't it?"

He then pointed to Muna, still whimpering quietly in her chair.

"That, is also pain! Seeing your friend suffering, that pains you! See, there's two forms of pain here alone!"

Dan put his finger on his chest.

"It pains _me_ to see you want to die in such a lame way! It pains the widow to see her husband go, it pains your heart to stand in the rain waiting for the impossible to happen, it pains the world to be so helpless to everything and it pains the sun to keep warming up one of its planets knowing it's slowly dying!"

With less care than he had done with Muna, he ripped the skin of her mouth and broke both of her ankles. He then carefully engraved the appropriate mark on her cheeks.

After looking at her longingly in the eyes, he stabbed his blade in her chest, so close to the heart but just enough for it not to be completely touched. Enough so she would still feel the pain for a few minutes.

Dan stepped back and fleered at Muna and Nitika.

"Now go on my angels. Tell the world."

He approached their chairs and cut the ropes with his penknife. He removed their gags and walked to the door. He waited.

Nitika immediately tried to stand up, but her broken ankles couldn't support her. She fell face first and yelled. Muna was still sitting in her chair, slowly drifting into death.

"Muna!" Nitika exclaimed. "Muna, come on! Stand up!"

She crawled to her friend, leaving a trail of blood behind her, and shook her legs. Her head simply wobbled, the blood from her wounds dripping down her knees.

"MUNA! No, come on..." She begged, her voice breaking. She tried standing up once more, but she fell down for the second time. "Muna..."

"Pain in its purest form..." Dan slowly whispered.

Nitika groaned and grabbed Muna by the arm. She pulled her and she fell forward in a loud noise. She wasn't moving anymore. Her friend nervously took her pulse and broke in a loud sob when she couldn't feel anything.

Dan approached her gently. He leaned down and turned her around. She was getting weaker by the second. Dan lifted up a finger, and with the same mocking smile, he shoved it inside her wound. She screamed again, but she didn't fight back. She was feeling her soul being dragged out of her body.

"Remember the pain and deliver the message, _Nitika._ "

Her eyelids became heavy after a few minutes, and she finally exhaled her last breath.

Dan stood up and licked his finger that was still covered in thick red blood. He dusted his hand, threw his penknife in his bag before opening the door, breathing in the fresh air, and leaving the house with a smile on his face.

"Now it's time to meet with an old friend..." He said to himself.

~

It had been about an hour since Quest had entered the bar and sat down at the counter. He had ordered a beer to appear normal among the others, but had only sipped it two or three times. He knew his team was behind him and that everything would be fine, but he didn't want Alpha to slip through his fingers again.

It was late now, and he was starting the get impatient. He took a sip of his beer to calm himself down when a voice came through his earpiece.

 _"Quest, I think he's coming through the door."_ Wade announced.

"Copy that." Quest replied. He shifted on his seat and made sure he looked normal.

He heard the door open and footsteps approached behind him. It took everything within Quest not to turn around and see if it was really him. It's only when the person sat down a stool away from him that he could peek from the corner of his eye.

 _"Is it him?!"_ It was Dallas' voice in his earpiece. Quest slowly nodded, knowing they would see him in the camera. _"Oh my God, okay, it's real, it's happening, I'm taking screenshots."_

 _"He's wearing gloves."_ Wade noticed. _"Make sure he drinks his beer and that he doesn't fake it."_

Quest couldn't help but grin. He knew Alpha would want to meet with him before finishing his pattern.

It was his mistake.

Dan had immediately recognized Quest Kadner. He had smirked and sat down a stool away from him. He ordered a beer before the detective had looked at him weirdly to then exclaim in an uncertain voice:

"Rupert?"

The barman put the beer down in front of him. Dan turned to face Quest.

"Quest... Kadner?" Dan replied, pretending he didn't really remember him.

"Yes, wow, nice to see you again!"

Quest shook Dan's hand.

"The pleasure is mine!" Dan said gleefully. "What are the odds to see you again?"

Quest laughed.

"I guess we're meant to be!" He joked.

Dan chuckled. He grabbed his beer and slowly drank.

"How have you been?" Quest asked cheerfully.

Dan thought this was oddly unlike him. When they met, Quest was usually the quiet one and Dan acted like the biggest fan. Why did Quest like to act so out of character with him?

"Uh, good." Dan answered.

 _"Go easy."_ Tucker spat in Quest's ear. _"We don't want him being suspicious."_

Quest ignored him.

"Nothing really exciting really happens in my life." Dan added.

"Don't you work?"

 _"What are you doing?!"_ Tucker exclaimed.

 _"He's conversing, makes the subject feel more at ease_..." Dallas explained.

 _"It's going to scare him away! Get to the point!"_ Tucker continued.

 _"Stop you two, don't distract him!"_ Wade intervened.

"Well, yes, but I work at home." Dan replied. It wasn't a lie.

"Oh, really? Who do you work for?"

"I do some work for a website." That wasn't such a lie either.

Quest nodded. He wanted to ask which website, but it would be too invasive and would probably make Rupert suspicious. So he just took another sip of his beer and waited for Rupert to ask him about Alpha. Because it was inevitable that he would do so.

"And so, how's the case going? Any leads?" Dan wondered.

Quest smiled.

"Ah, well, I'd like to tell you we are close to finding him but..." He paused. "It's not going our way, really."

"Huh? So has Alpha not left anything behind?"

 _"There's a smile in the corner of his mouth!"_ Dallas exclaimed. _"Look at him! Oh, he's so guilty..."_

"Well, nothing incriminating." Quest simply told.

Dan nodded. He took a big gulp of his beer.

"I heard Alpha is close to finishing his pattern, is that true?" Dan questioned.

Quest froze.

"Where did you hear that?" He asked.

"It was on the news this afternoon."

 _"He's saying the truth."_ Wade confirmed in his ear. _"Say yes. Let's see his reaction."_

"Well, yes." Quest sighed.

"That sucks."

Quest frowned.

"Are you not more concerned about this?"

 _"Careful, Quest."_ Wade warned.

"Why should I be?"

Quest was taken aback.

"People are dying, Rupert. They could be your friends, your coworkers... your family."

 _"Quest, be careful..."_ Wade warned once more.

"It could be Philip..."

Dan's head raised up quickly. He squinted his eyes, looking at Quest with a confused look. How did he know about Phil? It wasn't normal. Quest knew something.

Dan grabbed his beer and stood up.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom, if you don't mind." He smiled while glaring at him.

He walked away.

 _"Good job, Quest!"_ Tucker shouted. _"Great fucking job! If he wasn't suspicious before I don't know what he is now!"_

"I needed to see his reaction." Quest explained to the microphone.

 _"He left with his glass, Quest!"_ Wade mentioned.

"I can't follow him to the toilets now!" Quest said. "He'll slip through my fingers again!"

 _"You made the mess, you clean it up!"_ Tucker blurted.

"I'll wait a minute or two, I'll go after." Quest said.

Dan grabbed a beer on the table of a man who wasn't looking and brought it with him and his own glass to the toilets. When he got in, luckily, he was alone. He put the man's beer on the counter and then unrolled some brown paper. He wrapped his own glass in it, and with all his strength, threw it on the ground. He heard the glass shatter inside the paper.

He grabbed the paper and smashed the glass once again. He repeated it about 5 times to be sure the glass had been broken in as many small pieces as possible. He then opened one of the stalls, unwrapped his paper and let the glass pour into the bowl. Though, he grabbed the base of the glass, which was too thick to be shattered, and put it in his backpack. He threw the brown paper in the toilet along with the broken shards and flushed.

Dan exhaled deeply and grabbed the beer he had left on the counter. He went to open the bathroom's door, but someone did before he could. It was Quest.

"Oh, sorry..." Quest apologised.

Quest noticed Dan still had his beer in his hand.

"It's alright." Dan replied coldly.

He turned around and walked through the door.

 _"Don't let him go!"_ Wade exclaimed.

"Hey, Rupert..."

Dan stopped walking. He turned on his heels to face Quest.

"Did I offend you earlier? I'm sorry, my social skills are terrible..."

Dan sneered.

"No. But people die all the time, Quest. Death is everywhere, and you can't expect everyone to be fazed by something so trivialised."

Shocked, Quest watched Dan leave the room without adding a word.

 _"He's leaving."_ Wade announced. _"He left his glass on the counter. That's good. The barman will keep it for you, Quest. Zarah, it's your turn now."_

 _"On it."_ Quest could hear her voice very quietly.

Still surprised by Rupert's reply, Quest headed to the counter, retrieved the glass from the barman, left the place and joined Wade, Dallas and Tucker in the van they had parked two streets away. When he got in, he put the glass in one of Zarah's sealing bags and sat next to the monitors.

They had put a tracking device on Zarah to be able to trace her. She also had the same microphone and earpiece as Quest.

"He made a left when he got out the bar." Dallas recapitulated. "She's been following him since then. He hasn't taken another road."

 _"A right."_ Zarah's voice announced.

Wade noted down the street Alpha had just taken.

 _"Where are you taking me...?"_ Zarah whispered to herself. _"Oh shit..."_

The red dot indicating Zarah stopped moving on the map.

"What is it?" Wade asked.

 _"He turned around. I think he saw me. I hid."_ She explained briefly.

"Stay back." Wade suggested. "But keep following him."

The dot started moving again after a few seconds.

 _"Another right."_ Zarah said. _"And a left... Left again... A right..."_

"Where is he going?" Quest wondered.

_"Wait, no, shit!"_

"What is it, this time?" Wade asked.

 _"He just got in a shop!"_ She exclaimed.

"Go in! Don't lose him!" Quest commanded.

Everybody held their breath. They heard the bell of the shop ring when Zarah got in.

_"Hello, can I help you?"_

_"Hi, yes, was a man dressed all in black with a backpack of the same color in here just a few minutes ago?"_

_"I'm sorry, I don't recall. I was upstairs. I haven't heard the bell in an hour."_

_"Do you have a backdoor?"_

_"Sure, why?"_

Zarah didn't reply. They just heard her heavy breathing and her loud footsteps through the mic.

 _"Shit, shit!"_ Zarah cried. _"He's gone! He left through an alley, I've lost him!"_

Everybody sighed.

"Alright, don't move, we'll come get you. We still have the glass and Dallas' screenshots. We can work with that."

~

Dan had calmed his breathing before entering the apartment. He had ran so long and so fast that his lungs were on fire. He didn't even bother to worry about where Phil could be, he headed straight to his bedroom, closed the door behind him, threw his backpack on the floor and collapsed on his bed.

After taking a few breaths, he started laughing. He remembered today's events, and just laughed. It grew bigger and bigger, and soon he was hysterical.

"I love to see you dance, Quest..." he whispered through his laughter.


	30. Chapter 30

Sleep had a hard time coming down on Phil. His mind was tormented with the thoughts that had permanently scarred him, and they consumed every minute of his day. Lying in his bed, quiet but awake, he had heard his friend come back home late, like always, but had acted as if he hadn't, for the simple reason that if he acknowledged him, he knew he would break down. He kept hearing mumbles coming from his room, so he had to block his ears with his pillow.

After only three and half well needed hours of sleep, Phil had awoken from horrible nightmares. They had felt so real that he was still shaking 10 minutes later. He stayed in bed. He still felt sleepy and weak, but it was also to ignore Dan in the room next door as much as possible.

After two hours of light drowsing, Phil heard noises coming from the other side of the wall. Dan's bedroom door creaked open and footsteps resounded in the hallway. A few seconds later, Phil heard the fainted noise of the shower. He jumped out of bed and pushed Dan's door opened.

He crouched on the bed's side and lifted the sheets. He snatched the recording device he had put the day before and turned it off. He sighed deeply. He was glad to see it was still there. Adrenaline had rushed through his veins and he suddenly felt very awake.

Phil was about to leave the room but he stopped in the doorframe. He turned around slowly and looked on the piano's chair. There it was. Dan's backpack. He felt his heart skip a beat.

He could still hear the water hitting the ground in the distance. It was his chance. It was probably his _only_ chance.

Phil stood in the frame for a few seconds, frozen and unsure of what to do. This seemed too good to be real. Dan had left his backpack unattended.

His heartrate increasing, he carefully walked towards it. He unzipped it so slowly, scared that something would blow up if he rushed it. When it hit the end, Phil stopped breathing. He pulled the two sides apart and looked inside. There were only three things that Phil couldn't quite figure out from up there.

He put his hand in gingerly, still scared he might come out without a finger, and pulled a pair of gloves. It was his bike gloves Dan had asked for a month ago.

"What... _That_ 's where you are..?" He whispered to himself.

He put them aside and shoved his hand back in. He grabbed something circular and hard. He hissed and recoiled his hand when the object cut his finger with a sharp end. He licked the small string of blood before putting his hand back in and retrieving the object.

Squinting and frowning, Phil analysed it. It was glass, definitely, but he didn't know what it was _exactly._ It looked like the bottom of a pint, perhaps.

Confused, he put it aside and reached for the last object. It was a red thick rectangle with metal sides. A weird sensation overtook Phil's chest when he realized what it was. Slightly reluctantly, he flicked his wrist and a blade emerged from the red triangle. Phil had to cover his mouth to stop himself from yelling. He noticed a dried, wiped up red stain at the bottom of the blade and his whole body went numb.

He threw the gloves, the glass object and the knife in the bag, zipped it back, made sure it looked the same as when he had first come in, grabbed the recording device he had left on the bed and ran back to his own room after slamming the door behind him.

He stopped abruptly, still unable to feel anything in his body. He stared straight in front of him, his brain going at an indescribable speed, thoughts bouncing against each other and hurting the inside of his head.

The image of the bloody knife flashed in his mind, and as the conversation he had with Quest Kadner a few days prior resurfaced, Phil collapsed on his front and landed on the floor, unconscious.

~

"What the fuck?! What the _fuck_?!"

Quest couldn't remember the last time he had been that angry. He felt his entire face burn and he had to stop himself from breaking the lamp that stood in the corner of the room.

"How can that be?!" He roared as Wade put his hand on his shoulder, indicating him to calm down. "How the _fuck_ can that be?!"

Everyone in the room felt vulnerable under Quest's wrath. They tried to make themselves seem as small as possible, especially Vincent Talley and Vani Singh, since they had been the ones to deliver the bad news.

"I'm sorry, we did the tests about five times just to be sure..." Vincent said in a tiny voice.

"The DNA we sampled doesn't match the ones we found on Alpha's crime scenes!" Quest repeated to himself. He scoffed.

He grabbed the sides of his head before exclaiming:

"That's fucking impossible! We had one chance to catch him and we fucking failed!"

"Agent Kadner, we did associate the new DNA with someone... Paul Fletcher... He was released after four years in prison for armed robbery... We can see him slightly in the cameras you put at the bar, he's-"

"I don't give a shit about Paul Fletcher!" Quest raged. "Alpha was sitting right next to me, it was him! I know it was him! Did you hear his reaction when I talked about Philip?! It's him for sure! But now I can't _fucking_ prove it!"

He scoffed again and paced around the room.

"He switched his glass with Paul Fletcher's and he outran Zarah so now we don't even have a clue of where he could possibly be..."

"Again, I'm sorry..." Zarah apologised.

"We still have the screenshots..." Dallas pointed out.

"We do, Wiseman! But we can't know for sure how long it will take for someone to identify him! We don't have time! Time is running out! There's no time! Alpha will have the time to finish his pattern before someone finds him! If we put his face everywhere he will have the time to run away before we catch him! _No time!_ We can't do that!"

"As much as I hate to say this, Kadner," Wade said, "we'll have to accept the fact that Alpha will most definitely have finished his pattern when we'll find him..."

Quest stopped pacing and glared at Wade. He was so red that he couldn't feel his burning face.

"No. Not under my watch. We'll find him before that."

"Quest, stop, you know we won't-"

" _Not under my watch_." Quest repeated with clenched teeth.

"What do you expect us to do next, then?" Zarah asked. "There is only four people left for Alpha to kill!"

"I'll find something!" Quest snapped.

"You better find it fast!" Tucker spat. He lifted up his phone that had just beeped inside his pocket. "There's only two people left on Alpha's pattern."

A loud sigh was shared across the room when they saw the text from the police chief. Quest closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind.

"Wait, all we need to do is find K!" Quest exclaimed. "If K is hidden, that's for a reason, right? Alpha never hides his crimes from us, so why now? That probably means there's something behind it that could lead us to him!"

He continued pacing, exalted by this new discovery.

"Why haven't I thought about this earlier?" He wondered out loud. "That is so obvious. That would've taken me Jesus to blurt it out as a joke..."

A weird wave flowed through the team. Vincent looked at his knees uncomfortably. He brushed the hand Vani had put sympathetically off his shoulder. Realizing his mistake, Quest shuffled awkwardly. Before he could mumble an apology, Zarah spoke to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah, good idea, but, um, where do you expect us to find them? Not that we looked everywhere and still haven't found anything yet but..."

Quest turned to face her in a swift movement.

"What did we do to find Agana Baldwin?"

She was taken aback.

"Um, we looked underground?"

"Exactly. We expanded our horizons. We knew that if we stayed on land we wouldn't find her."

"Where are you going with this?" Wade wondered.

"K is probably not even in this country!" Quest exclaimed.

"What? How?" Dallas said.

"After Jesus, nothing happened for an entire week, remember?" Quest explained. "Then we found Link Maxwell. Where has Alpha been in the meanwhile, huh? Why has he been so inactive for a whole week? And mainly, why didn't we find K?"

"Because he was away..." Vincent finished.

Quest nodded. He smiled.

"Link Maxwell's death was the Christ's ascent to heaven. He has to be resurrected before that! And he disappeared from his tomb to reappear somewhere else. That's why K is not here! We only have to figure out where he was, and we'll find K."

"That might take a while..." Vincent pointed out. "It might have been anywhere in the world."

"Look, we'll go over to the scene we've got going on right now while you figure your shit up." Tucker told.

Before Quest could reply, someone knocked and opened the door.

"Agent Essex? There's someone on the phone for you..."

"Not now, I'm busy." He groaned.

"Um, sir, it's Agent Smith from Florida's FBI office... He said they found a body that could be linked to the Alpha case..."

Tucker and Quest exchanged a surprised look. After a nod, Tucker turned back to the officer at the door and said:

"I'm coming." He then looked at his team and added:

"Go to this address, get everything sampled and we'll meet here right after. Vincent, Vani, you two will drop every other case you're currently working on and will analyse everything from this new crime scene as soon as you come back here. We might actually have a chance to catch Alpha before he ends his pattern."

He got up and walked to the door. Before he closed it behind him, he turned to Quest. For a moment, he thought he would spit another insult at him. But he opened his mouth, his squinted eyes staring directly at him, and said:

"It's your lucky day."

~

When he regained consciousness, Phil was very confused. Slowly, he rose from the floor he had been lying on. He looked around him and realized he was in his room. He scratched the back of his head, trying to remember what had happened. It was only when he noticed he still had the recording device in his hand that it all came back to him.

A long shiver crawled up his spine and he put it on his desk. He didn't want to listen to it. The memory of the knife was so fresh in his mind it felt like a gaping wound.

His head started pounding at the thought. A knife. A _fucking_ knife. A knife with dried blood. A knife, resting at the bottom of a backpack. Dan's backpack. A backpack he never left home without.

_"Death... Torture... Fate... Sin..."_

He stomped his foot on the ground. No. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening at all.

His head started spinning when he looked back at the recording device on the desk. He sat on his bed to make sure he didn't faint again.

He didn't know where Dan was in the house, but he didn't care. He felt like everything around him was slowly fading and that everything he had built for the past years was slowly crumbling. He felt like his best friend's shell was cracking up before his eyes and that black goo poured out and drowned him in his demons. He felt like his entire being was wrapped around a strong and sharp metal fence, trapping him inside a nightmare that was forming in front of him, and writing him a future that only held pain.

In that exact moment, Phil couldn't foresee a bright turn of events. His heart swelled up inside his chest and his body started shaking. Nothing in his entire little world could've been worse than this.

But, yet again, even if everything was written clear and bright in Phil's sky, his brain chose the easy route of denial.

"I don't know anything..." Phil whispered to himself, replacing a rebel strand of hair with a shaky hand. "Everything is fine... Dan is good..."

He remembered happy memories with Dan, where they both smiled and laughed like nothing else ever mattered.

He then remembered the conversation he had had with Louise in the bathroom as he had cried his heart out.

_"I don't think what Dan does is actually legal."_

He couldn't help the tears fall down his cheeks once more. His head was a mess, and as he shoved sobs down his throat, he laid back on his bed and stared at the recording device for what seemed forever, unable to convince himself to listen to what it had recorded, scared that what he was running away from would be bluntly thrown at him.

~

With his finger under his nose, Quest approached the two bodies that laid on the bloody ground. Zarah and Dallas had already started sampling and taking pictures of everything. Vincent and Vani had crouched next to one body each, scribbling down information on notebooks and exchanging their observations out loud. Everyone was ready to be as productive as possible to find Alpha before he could have time to move a toe.

"Broken ankles, stabbed left eye, minor cut on forehead, lacerated corners of the mouth, and seems like dirt in her hair and on her face..." Vincent said.

"A mix of vomit and wine on her face, small shards of glass lodged in tiny cuts on her face, stabbed heart, also broken ankles and lacerated mouth corners." Vani continued. "Can't forget the numbers 14 and 16 on her cheeks."

"13 and 16 for me." He added. A click was heard from Dallas' camera. "Body looks maybe less than a day old."

"Same here. I would say perhaps 10 pm? 11 pm?"

"I agree. There's-"

"Wait, 10 pm or 11 pm?" Quest interrupted.

"Yes, sir." Vani replied.

"That's around the time we met him at the bar!" He exclaimed.

"Perhaps he was here before he was at the bar." Wade said.

"Of course." Quest spat bitterly. "Having blood on his hands and meeting me right after must've been orgasmic to him."

He sighed.

"Zarah, how does it look so far?" He asked.

"I found two purses. There's IDs which tell me we are looking at Muna Nejem and Nitika Oliver. There's trails of blood on the ground in front of two chairs with ropes. That is probably where the bodies were before they got where they are. Alpha either dragged them off the chairs or let them go. It's most probably the second option, which would explain why they were headed towards the door. He threw a bottle of wine and a plant pot at them. So far, there's nothing that could be coming from Alpha but we're still digging into that."

She paused and looked away from what she was taking samples from.

"Do you have a theory so far?"

"Well, Alpha is close to the end." Quest told. "His last victim represented the ascent to heaven. The end of the Bible is the Revelation. The Three Angels prepare the world to the second-coming of Jesus Christ. With their mouths ripped like this, I guess it is Alpha's way of showing they're supposed to deliver the message."

He paused.

"He's coming. He's preparing himself. He's preparing the world."

A silence fell across the room. Quest looked at everyone straight in the eyes before adding:

"Come on. Keep working. If we get done quick that will give enough time to Vincent and Vani to get the results before tonight."

~

After around an hour of silent crying, Phil decided it was enough. He left the recording device behind and decided to go work on more videos. It would be the best way to change his mind.

He left his room lazily and walked up the stairs to go sit in the office. He had walked past Dan's closed door, which he could hear a few sounds coming from, but pretended like he hadn't.

Another hour later, when Phil had finally managed to get fully immersed and concentrated on his work, his bubble popped when Dan opened the door of the office without knocking. He jerked and turned around.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here."

Phil's face flushed. He really didn't want to see Dan. He shook his head, trying as hard as he could to keep his calm, and started gathering his sheets and material.

"I'll go work in my room." He said slightly too aggressively.

"No, you were here first, I'll just go." Dan replied.

"No." Phil cut. He stood from the chair and grabbed his stuff in one hand. "Sit."

Dan gently pushed Phil back down on the chair. "Phil, keep doing your work."

Phil got angrier. He just wanted to shorten the time spent in Dan's company and leave, but he didn't seem to want to do the same. He could feel his face burn.

There was a long silence in which Phil tried to leave again, this time without saying anything, but Dan forced him down once again with more strength.

"How long will this war last?" Dan suddenly asked.

Phil didn't look up. His entire face was red and he didn't want to pick up a second fight. He just wanted to leave like he had never seen Dan.

"I don't know what you're referring to."

Phil tried to stand up for a third time but, again, Dan pushed him down. But it was less gentle this time. Phil considered kicking him in the balls so he would step back, but he was taken aback when Dan sat directly on his lap and placed his arms around his neck.

"Oh, you do, Philip." Dan whispered close to his ear.

Phil was so surprised that no word came out of his mouth and his jaw hung open. Dan's arms wrapped around his neck were both strong and gentle. He could feel him putting slight pressure between his legs.

"Why are we even fighting? Because you're overreacting?" Dan continued, tilting his head.

Phil went to protest but Dan shut him up by placing his finger on his lips. He chuckled and removed it.

"Sorry, no, because you 'care for me'. I got overwhelmed, I mocked you, and you punched me." He recapitulated. "That's correct, isn't it?"

Phil tried to open his mouth and clarify a few things, because it wasn't _all_ correct, but Dan stopped him again. He giggled again.

"Alright, yes, you're right. I've been acting strange, we gave our friends a fright and our interactions have been... corrupted. But..."

His embrace around Phil's neck tightened and he ground his hips down on his crotch. The friction caused Phil to involuntarily shiver.

"Why should we continue this way? I know _I_ called the war, but in the heat of the moment, it had to be done." He stroked a gentle finger across one of Phil's bruises. "Why ignore each other and hold a grudge for so long, though?"

Dan's cold fingers suddenly touched the sensitive skin of Phil's neck. His whole body became paralyzed. He couldn't tear himself off of Dan's eyes. They were so hypnotizing he felt like he was talking directly to his soul. With the pressure he kept adding by slowly grinding onto him only helped make his skin crawl stronger.

"We've known each other for so long..." He purred, his lips getting closer and closer to Phil's ear. "I thought we trusted each other by now..."

Phil exhaled sharply. He hadn't realized he wasn't breathing.

"Why can't the sheer statement that no help is needed be enough for this fight to be over?"

By now, Dan was slowly and sensually moving his hips from back to front, making sure Phil could feel all the friction from his motion. To his delight, Phil was trying his hardest to stop himself from reacting to anything Dan was doing to him.

His lips were next to Phil's ear. He placed a small kiss on his lobe, to then hover on his skin and place a second one on the back of it.

"I don't know what you think I do, or what you think of me..." Dan whispered in between kisses he left on Phil's neck. "But I hope you know that, whatever it is that you think..."

He paused. His lips were only a few centimeters away from Phil's. He breathed slowly against them, feeling the bumps of his sensitive skin on his fingers.

"I'll never hurt you..."

Phil's lips were soft, but the kiss was brief. He didn't even have time to process what had just happened that Dan increased the pressure of his hips, grabbed Phil's neck by one hand and shoved the other between his legs to intensify the friction.

"Do you know why?" Dan asked, still with this slow and soft voice.

Phil shook his head. He was lost in Dan's eyes, in his manners and the sensations he felt. There was something in him, which he hated, that was so fascinating that managed to put his reflexes and common sense to sleep.

"Because I love you, Phil."

The words echoed in his ears like a melody. His entire body went numb and he felt his entire face burn. He stopped resisting the sensations and let them seize him. He sat beneath Dan, feeling like the weight of the world had never even existed.

"Do _you_ love me, Phil?"

Phil's hand unconsciously placed itself on Dan's cheek. He stared directly into his brown eyes, and in a whisper, loud enough for only both of them to hear, he replied:

"I love you, Dan."

A grin lifted the corners of his mouth.

"As long as you're with me..." Dan begun.

"I have nothing to fear..." Phil finished off, his cheeks brighter than any sunset.

Their lips met, and the kiss was more passionate, more felt and more intimate. Phil accidentally let out a strangled moan as Dan's hands continued to work their way up and down his body. He was ready to go further, feel Dan's skin against his, the heat of another human, the smell of his hair... feel nothing but pure pleasure. But when he thought things were getting started, Dan tore his lips from Phil's, stood up from his lap, threw him one last glance and left the room without adding a word.

When the door closed and Phil was found alone again, he exhaled deeply. The heat that had taken over him settled after a few seconds and Dan's spell wore off. Phil's common sense slowly kicked back in and started analysing over what had just happened.

It was only a minute later, when he had finished replaying in his head the scene he had just lived, that the harsh reality crushed upon him. He remembered his encounter with Quest Kadner, the bloody knife he had found in Dan's backpack, the recording device he had yet to listen to...

He let his face fall into his hands. He couldn't believe he had yet again fallen into one of Dan's traps. He looked down at his obvious erection and shook his head shamefully.

Dan was like a ticking bomb. Phil knew playing his games was like a game of Russian roulette. He knew that the only way to stop falling into Dan's traps was to uncover the truth. And he knew too well that the truth lied within the recording device. He had to stop chickening out and do it before Dan blew up in his face.

~

As Quest scribbled theories, possible places Alpha could be hiding at, possible patterns he might follow next and questions he still didn't have answers to, the rest of the team was working hard to get as much information as possible. Vani and Vincent were down at the morgue while Zarah worked in the laboratory. Dallas was adding the pictures he had taken to the cork board and created links with the ones that were already there. After a few minutes of silence, Dallas stepped back from the board.

"Do you really think we'll catch him?"

"Mmhmm..." Quest replied, not leaving his eyes from his sheets.

"No, seriously, Quest." Dallas insisted. "Do you think we will?"

Quest lifted his head from his sheet.

"Of course we will."

He glanced at Dallas.

"Are you doubting me?"

"No!" Dallas exclaimed. "No, of course not but... We have to be realistic here..."

"We _are_ realistic, Wiseman!" Quest snapped, getting up from his chair. "We will find him before he gets to the end, we've almost got him!"

"Quest, the odds of finding him with such tiny information are almost impossible..."

A bit too aggressively, Quest stepped forward. He had been waiting too long for the moment to catch Alpha to come that he wouldn't let anyone burst his bubble. He knew they would find him, that was all.

But before he could say that to Dallas, the door opened and Zarah walked in.

"I analysed everything I sampled..." She looked up from the papers she was holding and saw Quest a bit too close to Dallas. She squinted her eyes and Quest stepped back and to turn to her.

"But unfortunately nothing I found could match the DNAs. I don't think he will ever part with his gloves."

He grunted.

"Alright, we'll wait for Vani and Vincent's report. They probably have something." He went to sit back down but just as he was about to touch the chair he stood back up. "By the way, have you heard of Essex?"

"I think he's still with the FBI. If he's not, he's probably looking through the reports they sent."

Quest nodded and finally sat back down.

"Where is Wade?" She wondered.

"Still out questioning neighbors." Quest said, chewing his pen and staring at his sheet. "He should be back soon."

She nodded and stood in silence for a few seconds. Quest had already returned to his theory sheet and was so concentrated he didn't even notice Dallas and Zarah were still in the room.

They exchanged a look. Zarah sighed and drew herself a chair.

"Do you still believe we'll catch him in time?" She asked.

There was a silence. Quest was still looking down at his sheet but he wasn't writing anymore.

"What is it with you two?" He suddenly exclaimed. "Are you all just giving up?!"

"We're not giving up, Quest, we're just being realistic." Zarah explained calmly. "We're not the only ones. Vincent and Vani think it too. Vincent respects you too much to tell you, and Vani doesn't want to offend you. Tucker has already told you plenty of times and Wade low-key thinks it. You're putting the stakes too high. We have so little information, it's practically impossible to find him before he ends up his pattern."

"You're giving up." Quest repeated bluntly.

"We're not!" Zarah exclaimed. "We simply think that if you accepted the fact that catching him before he reaches 16 is impossible, we could take more time to analyse things correctly. A rushed analysis can be prone to mistakes!"

"You guys don't seem to understand; if we don't catch him before he ends his pattern, we are giving him the satisfaction of proclaiming himself as the new god. If we don't stop him now, he will get to 16 and wait for prison. His goal is not to run away from the murders, he wants recognition for them! If we stop him before, he will not want to be imprisoned, all he will want to do is finish it! I am _not_ going to give him the satisfaction!"

Zarah was speechless for a few seconds, and then scoffed.

"This whole case is becoming such a personal thing, Kadner. You're not doing it for the victims, or for their families, or for justice. You're doing it for yourself. You're so obsessed with Alpha that you risk everything. You're so blinded by him that you're ready to screw up an entire case just to 'not give him the satisfaction.' You know that if, I'm really saying _if_ you do catch him, and that his DNA doesn't match the ones we have, you're going to be screwed, right?"

"It's him. I know it's him."

"You don't know for sure!" She snapped. "You _don't_ know! Get your head out of your ass and look at this for a second! Even if Tucker comes back here with information about K, and Vani and Vincent with a DNA sample, we still won't catch him before it ends. For Fuck's sake, Quest, the things you did for this stupid case! Do you even realize?! You sacrificed Jesus for this!"

"I did not!" Quest screamed as he stood up in a swift movement.

"Yes you did. _Yes you did._ And now you're going to listen to me. Drop it. You drop it now and we will gather all the right information to incriminate him when the time comes."

"No." Quest shook his head. "No. I'm catching him. With or without you."

"Quest..." Dallas whispered. "Listen..."

"No, _you_ listen!" He yelled. "I have never been so sure of something in my entire career. I have been analysing Alpha for _weeks_. I know his way of thinking, acting, what he wants and what he doesn't. And I know, I _know_ we will catch him before that."

There was a long silence.

"Now, you will return to your work and help me find him, or walk away and return to your minor cases."

Dallas and Zarah looked at each other longingly. He turned around to continue pining his pictures, and Zarah reluctantly threw her report on the table and walked to the door.

"You better be damn right." She said before slamming the door behind her.

Quest sighed angrily after sitting back down.

"I just know it." He muttered.


	31. Chapter 31

With no useful information, Wade had made it back to the hospital an hour later. Zarah's words had echoed through Quest's mind when he had seen him. But instead of talking about it again, he nodded and continued working.

Not only fifteen minutes later, Tucker barged into the room and dropped a file on the table. Quest stood up and waited for explanations.

"Wiseman, go get the others, they might need to hear this." He ordered as he sat down at the end of the table.

Dallas nodded and left immediately.

"Was it K?" Quest asked hurriedly.

Tucker grunted like he didn't want to admit Quest was right. He waited for Dallas to come back with Zarah, Vani and Vincent before replying to the question that burnt Quest's lips.

"Kimi Lyon. 23 years old. She was found dead in a park in Orlando, Florida."

"I knew it!" Quest exclaimed.

"What did the report say?" Vincent asked.

"A simple but effective stab at the top of the skull was enough to kill her. Apart from that and the numbers 12 and 16 cut onto her cheeks, Alpha did not do anything else to her. They did not find anything that could incriminate someone. The report also says that her arms were placed horizontally and her legs were crossed so that her body resembled a cross, and that her long hair had been neatly draped around her shoulders."

Dallas had spotted the brown envelope in front of Tucker and opened it. He had printed the copies of the crime scene pictures the FBI had transferred. He pinned them down on the cork board in the space he had left for the twelfth victim. Quest looked at it for a few seconds before saying:

"The white cloth on the cross. This is a tradition, people put white cloths on a cross on Easter for the resurrection."

The team nodded.

"That's Alpha." He confirmed.

"That sneaky shit..." Dallas exclaimed. "He went all the way to Orlando for that? That's dedication!"

"But why was he in Orlando?" Zarah wondered. "There has to be a reason. Why there more than anywhere else?"

"Agent Smith told me they didn't realize immediately that it was one of our cases." Tucker continued. "It's when they realized that they searched a bit further, trying to understand why he had killed someone in America. They found out the park Kimi Lyon had been killed at was a few miles away from a hotel. They asked for the hotel record and looked for the last people to check out after the estimated time of death. They found a room registered under the name 'Phil Lester'."

Quest jumped off his seat. His fist hit the table with an incredible force and he threw his coworkers triumphant stares.

"Phil! So Philip Lester is his full name! That's the guy I saw at the grocery store. That was him with Alpha at Emily Fontaine's crime scene!"

He paused to take a breath.

"Is that all they found about him? Did they get any number? Credit card, telephone...? Did they dig any deeper?!"

"They did ask the receptionist of the hotel if they had anything to report on the people in that room. They were two, because two keys to that room had been given out when they checked in. She didn't know much else about them in particular, but she did say that their hotel was hosting an event that weekend and that most people that booked a room had gone to that event."

"That would give Alpha a purpose to go to Florida, then." Zarah said.

Tucker and Quest simultaneously nodded.

"What kind of event was it?" Wade wondered.

"It was called 'Playlist Live'." Tucker announced.

He looked around him to see if anyone knew about that event. When a silence followed, he continued.

"Apparently it's a three days event where internet sensations come together to meet their fans."

The team frowned. That sounded weird.

"And... was he there to meet these people or there so people could meet him?" Zarah asked.

"They had a look through the special guests list." Tucker explained. "They did find a Phil Lester."

Quest smiled from ear to ear.

"Did they find anything on Alpha?!" He asked hastily. "Could they figure out who was in the room with him?"

Tucker glared at him.

"They found Phil Lester under a meet up schedule. He had been scheduled with another person, Dan Howell."

"Dan Howell..." Quest repeated under his breath. "Dan Howell... Who is he? Did they ask about him?" His voice was louder and more hurried this time. "What is their relation?"

Tucker grunted. The tension was so high in the room no one dared to move. The attention was entirely focused on Quest and Tucker now.

"They said they had been scheduled together because they are very good friends and that their fans rarely only like them individually. They said it's always simpler to put them together."

"Is that it?!"

"They added that if they wanted more information they should probably google them."

Without hesitation, Quest pulled out his phone. He typed 'Dan Howell and Phil Lester' into the search bar. When he clicked on the images, everything around him seemed to brighten up. He felt like Alpha's tight hands around his throat had loosened up and like the canvas finally made sense.

"It's him..." He whispered.

He turned his phone to the team. They squeezed themselves to look at the screen all at the same time.

"It's him!" Quest exclaimed, triumphant. "That's Alpha, that's Rupert, the guy at the bar, the guy at Emily Fontaine's crime scene! That's him! And that is Philip Lester! The guy I saw at the grocery store! He was at Emily Fontaine's crime scene too! There it is, our proof!"

"Oh my God..." Wade murmured.

"Quest Kadner, you son of a bitch, you did it!" Dallas exclaimed. "You freaking did it!"

Quest was smiling widely. He was so happy that he was holding it back to stay professional.

"Now, Philip hasn't done anything." Quest said. "His friend, Dan, is doing the dirty work. Phil Lester is not Alpha, Dan is, and he is using him to cover himself!"

Everyone was listening carefully.

"We must protect Phil at all cost. He hasn't done anything wrong. I'm almost a hundred percent positive he helps Alpha blindly. He might know more than we do. Much more. We need to find _him_. If we find Phil, we find Alpha."

He looked at the people around him.

"You didn't think it was realistic?" He added. "You thought it was all in vain? Well there you go. We have a clue. Do your research. I don't care what you do, as long as he or Dan don't know, I want you to find a way to him. There has to be information about where they live somewhere on the Internet. We'll get him. Oh, yes, we will."

He looked at Wade, a glimmer shining brightly in his eyes.

"It's not over. It's only the beginning."

~

He was frantic. His fingers kept twitching inside his pockets. His pace was fast, his breath was sharp and he felt his grip tighten around the world.

Only two people were left in Dan's pattern. He was so excited for it to be finally completed that nervousness had seized him up and that adrenaline was already rushing through his body. He could smell it from miles away, the end was near. Oh, so near.

He had never seen Phil so close to uncovering the truth. This had also contributed to his anxiety and excitement. Soon he could reveal his work to him. Soon, he could finally understand. Sooner than he would expect.

After buying himself some more time by soothing Phil down, he had quickly left the apartment to hunt for his next to last victim. His urges to kill had never been stronger, it almost felt animal. It was so strong he felt like he wouldn't even have the patience to perfect his art like the others. His mind was a total chaos, every thought was screamed at him in shrill voices, but he didn't care anymore. Kill. That was the only thing that mattered.

"Hey, big boy, tell me what you want and I'll tell you my price..."

Dan was torn from his thoughts and noticed a woman dressed in a small and revealing dress with knee high boots and a thin coat over her shoulders. The voices inside his head stopped, and on the same countdown, they yelled at the same given moment. Dan followed their lead and slapped the woman, making her fall to her knees. Without thinking, he jumped to her throat and plunged his teeth in her flesh. He bit down and ripped her skin off. The blood spurted out and he drank it in large sips.

"Want anything, big boy?" The woman asked with her sensual voice.

Without hesitation, Dan indicated the alley behind her. She nodded, grinned cheekily and turned around, moving her hips with every step. When they were in deep enough, she turned around and licked her lips.

"My name is Olita. I'm at your service, now. What is it that you want, then, big boy?"

"This..."

He pulled his knife out of his pocket in a swift movement and strongly grabbed her by the throat. She started squealing when she felt the hand around her neck and a higher sound came out of her mouth when she saw the blade approaching her lips. Dan immediately sliced each corners of her mouth. She continued half screaming and half choking while Dan carved the numbers 15 and 16 on her cheeks. When he was done, he let go of her neck. She inhaled deeply, but before she could yell at the top of her lungs and escape, he slit her throat in a single movement. She slid down the wall slowly before hitting the ground.

Suddenly, a bright light cast down on the wall in front of him.

"HEY!" Dan heard at the other end of the alley. "Oh my, God! I'm filming you right now! I've got this on video! I'm calling the police! Don't you fucking move!"

Dan looked at the man from the corner of his eyes. The flash from his phone was blinding, and he knew his face had been exposed. He snickered to himself. He turned back to Olita. As the blood gushed out of her neck, he opened his backpack and grabbed the broken glass bottom he had brought bar from the bar. He then placed it under the wound and let it pour into the glass.

"I SAID I AM CALLING THE POLICE!" The man yelled. Dan could sense fear in his voice. But he ignored him once more.

He removed the glass now full of blood from under her wound and placed it in between Olita's hands. He wiped his knife on her thin coat and stood back up.

Dan turned around slowly to face the man. The flash suddenly turned off and the man brought his phone to his ear.

"Hi, yes, hello, I'm in an alley and someone has just been murdered..." He swallowed hard when he noticed Dan was slowly walking in his direction. "No, no, the murderer is still there, he's got a hood on his head, I can't see his face, I'm on-"

Dan struck the man's temple with his elbow. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

_"Sir, are you still there, sir? You need to tell me where you are and what is happening, officers will be on their way..."_

Dan crouched and grabbed the phone that was still resting in the man's hand.

"Tell Quest to come find me." He simply said into the phone before hanging up. He placed it back in the man's hand, and left after looking at Olita one last time.

~

"Why do they seem like the happiest and most normal people in the entire world?" Dallas said.

The team had begun searching about Dan Howell and Phil Lester on the Internet to gather as much information as they could. Dallas had ended up on their YouTube channels and was watching a few videos. Zarah was reading articles and fan posts and every time they thought an information was worth it, they told Quest who was still writing down theories.

"Serial killers rarely ever look like serial killers." Quest replied.

"And they don't have to be miserable to be serial killers." Wade added.

"But look at them." Dallas turned the laptop screen in Quest's direction. "I don't know what it is. They just look so happy together. I wonder what their real relation is."

"Mmh. Whatever their relation is, Dan is manipulating Phil to protect himself from me."

"Oh also, I found that one video on Dan's channel. It's called 'Psycho thoughts'. It was posted around the time Agana Baldwin was reported missing, and around the time of Bradley Cox's death."

Quest frowned.

"What does he say?"

"Well, basically he talks about daydreams he has where he imagines people dying and stuff like that..."

"Daydreams? This is like my theory about him getting orders from his subconscious..."

"That's exactly it." Dallas confirmed.

"There's not much information about their home address on the Internet." Zarah suddenly said. "There's a few people who say they have found their house but nothing about where exactly. Maybe we could find the IP address of one of their tweets?"

"Not now."

Tucker had just entered the room and he was sliding his phone back in his pocket.

"What is it now?" Dallas asked.

"The police station just received an emergency call. A man called in because he was witnessing a murder still in action. He said the murderer was still there but that a hood covered his head so he couldn't see his face. Then he tried to say more but they heard a weird sound and then someone else spoke into the phone. They said to tell Quest to come find him."

"Alpha." Quest whispered. "I have to go now!" He exclaimed, gathering his things and throwing his coat over his shoulders. "You two, come with me. Tucker, tell Vincent and Vani what happened but they have to keep analysing. Send other forensics for this crime scene. In the meanwhile, Wade, find the IP address. But wait for me before taking action. I want to be the one arresting his ass."

Everyone nodded and followed the orders without adding a word. Tucker gave the police information to Quest before heading to the morgue.

~

Phil had spent more time than he would have liked to admit staring at the recording device. Immediately after Dan had left, he had ran back to his room and had grabbed it in the hope of finally building up the strength to listen to it.

He had stared at it, unable to start it. Had put it down, paced around his room, grabbed it again, stared, and stared, still unable to listen to it once and for all.

Finally, after a long time of battling himself mentally, he hit the play button quickly. There was no going back.

At first it was silent. Phil remembered he had placed it earlier in the day so he wouldn't get caught by Dan. So he fast-forwarded until he could hear something else than the crippling sound of nothing.

Suddenly, he heard a loud voice. He stopped, rewound and hit play again.

He heard footsteps approaching, and the door closing. He could hear Dan breathing heavily. Slowly, his breaths turned into laughter. The laugh grew bigger and bigger, and soon it was hysterical, psychotic, even.

_"I love to see you dance, Quest..."_

Phil's body went numb. He had mentioned Quest. After his laughter died down, silence came back. Phil could only hear footsteps, shuffling of sheets and a few piano notes. He decided to fast forward again. He stopped when whispers started coming through the speaker. They were very low and sequenced, Phil could easily tell it was Dan sleep talking. But, unlike the last time Phil had heard Dan sleep talk, his words were clear and vivid.

_"Quest... Quest, you'll find me... It's... It's me... You're looking for me... Alpha... I'm right... Right under your nose... You were so close... But... But I'm not... I'm not done... No... Not yet... The revelation... It needs... It needs to be done... Before... Before we meet again... Alpha... Alpha is alive... Quest... Two... Two left... O... Fifteen... P... Sixteen... Sixteen... Sixteen... Sixteen... Sixteen...! Sixteen! SIXTEEN..."_

Phil stopped the recorder. He set it aside slowly, not a single limb able to feel a thing as sweat drenched his entire face. As he lifted up an incredibly shaky arm and adjusted his hair on his head, the rate of his heart got abnormal and the urge to scream bloody murder grew bigger and bigger.

It finally crashed upon him. Dan Howell, the man he had beloved and shared a room with for 6 years, was the infamous Alpha he had been scared of since the beginning. And he had only two victims left on his pattern. O and P.

"I am P..." Phil whispered in a distressed voice.

As Phil contemplated running away, far, far away from this place and never looking back, he heard the front door of the apartment creak open.

Dan was back.

~

When they arrived, Quest almost busted the car door to get out and run to the crime scene. A police car was already there and they were closing the perimeter with the familiar yellow tape. He could hear the ambulance's siren ringing far away.

Zarah's car pulled right next to his a few seconds later and she and Dallas joined him on the scene.

Quest first noticed the man on the ground, with the phone in his hand. He seemed uninjured, but he was still unconscious. The officer that wasn't setting the tape was crouched next to him and tried to earn a response from the man.

About five meters away, a woman was sitting at the end of the wall. He could see from where he was the amount of blood on her body.

"Was there anyone else when you arrived?" He hastily asked the officers.

"No, just these two." One of them said.

Quest nodded. "After you're done with that tape you should go check around, maybe some other people saw him."

"On it."

He indicated his team to follow him as he approached the corpse.

"The corner of her mouths were lacerated." Quest observed out loud.

"Just like Muna Nejem and Nitika Oliver." Zarah finished off.

"So this is..." Dallas begun.

"The Third Angel." Quest confirmed. "Ready to deliver the message."

"Oh, what is this in her hands?" Dallas snapped a picture of it.

"It looks like a broken pint. With blood inside." Zarah said after looking closely. She gasped. "Wait, could that be Alpha's actual pint that Quest tried to get from him at the bar?"

"That's probable." Quest replied.

"But what does that mean?" Dallas wondered.

Quest stayed silence. He thought for a few seconds.

" _If anyone worships the beast and its image and receives its mark on their forehead or on their hand, they, too, will drink the wine of God's fury, which has been poured full strength into the cup of his wrath_." He finally quoted.

"Wow." It was all Zarah could think of.

"How does anyone know that much about religion?" Dallas thought out loud. "From what I saw on the Internet earlier, he seemed like the least religious person out there. Not even Jesus knew that much about religion."

"Quest knows a lot." Zarah simply said.

"Yeah, but he did some research before. Alpha started killing on an impulse, I suppose he didn't have time to check on bible.com to get the details." He explained. "I don't know. It's just all weird, man."

"Start sampling." Quest ordered. "Do your thing."

At the same time, a second police car arrived. A tall woman got out and noticed Quest looking at her.

"Agent Kadner!" She called when she saw him.

When she got closer, Quest finally recognized her. He had seen her once at Guy and Howie's crime scene.

"Agent Mir." He greeted her with a handshake.

"Have you got anything so far?" She asked.

"We arrived only a few minutes ago. An officer is out looking for possible witnesses."

She nodded. A silence stretched between them while Quest waited for Agent Mir to word the thoughts he could see were running through her mind.

"Does it happen often that serial killers ask for you to come find them?" she finally asked.

Quest paused. He looked at the corpse from the corner of his eyes.

"It doesn't happen usually." He replied. "I find them before they ask for me to get them."

"Alpha's pattern is one person away from being done." Agent Mir pointed out.

Quest glared at her. He stopped himself from snapping and simply breathed deeply.

"Don't worry. I've got this under control."

She nodded her head, seeming unconvinced. Quest tried to ignore it. He turned away from her to continue his analysis of the crime scene.

"Olita Pocklington." She then said behind him.

"Pardon me?"

"The victim on the ground. Her name is Olita Pocklington." She clarified. "She has history with us. She was arrested innumerable times for soliciting in public places. When she was released, she would simply move a few blocks away. I guess she asked the wrong person today."

"The man on the ground, do you know him?" Quest wondered.

"No." She said. "He must've just been walking by."

Another silence stretched as Quest continued thinking.

"Bit risky to kill at such an open place." Agent Mir cut Quest's thoughts once more.

"It's because he doesn't care anymore." Quest answered, annoyed. "He is so close to the end that everything inside of him must feel like he's about to burst. His goal is so close, the only thing he'd be wanting to do is to finally end it."

Agent Mir was about to add something else, but the officer that was still next to the unconscious man finally earned a response from him. When he noticed the man was moving, Quest ran to his side.

"Sir, I'm detective Quest Kadner, I'm with the MI5, I have a few questions to ask y-"

"Agent Kadner, you should probably give him some space..." The officer said.

"I need to talk with him right now otherwise his memory will be corrupted!" He retorted. "Sir!"

"I'm..." The man looked very confused. "Oh my God..."

He looked behind him to see Olita Pocklington's dead body. He gasped and started panicking.

"The man! Where is he!? He was- He was just t- he was just there! He- He-"

"Sir, calm down, it's okay, you're safe now." The officer tried to reassure him. "What is your name?"

"Hunter..." He said in between two big breaths.

"Hunter, you need to listen to me very carefully." Quest explained as calmly as he could. "Do you remember anything from the man that attacked you?"

"N-no... Not really..." He answered sheepishly as he rubbed the side of his head.

Quest crouched and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders.

"Agent Kadner..." The officer warned.

"You've got to remember something, the smallest detail!" He exclaimed, almost angry. "What was he wearing?"

"Um, a lot of black, I can remember..."

"Okay, that's a start, did he tell you anything?"

"No, it was all very quiet... And suddenly he turned around and started walking towards me slowly..."

"Did you see his face?" Quest asked firmly.

"No..."

"Did you see it? You must have!" He was getting a bit aggressive.

"Agent Kadner..." The officer repeated.

"No!" Hunter said. "B- but..."

"You walked in on Alpha murdering someone and you're still alive, it's impossible for you not to have seen at least one bit of his face!" Quest was angry now. He retrieved his own phone from his pocket and showed him Dan Howell's picture.

"Does this man ring any bell?!"

"Agent Kadner!" The officer warned once more.

"Wait..." Hunter begun. "I filmed him!"

"What?!" Quest exclaimed.

"Yes, before calling the police I filmed him! I filmed the killer! I think I got him when he turned around!"

Quest stood back up excitedly. He turned to the officer.

"Where is that phone?" He asked him hurriedly.

"Your girl, Mello, sampled it."

"MELLO!" He screamed. "COME HERE!"

Zarah turned her head around, startled.

"What is it?" She asked when she joined Quest.

"This man's phone, get it out of its seal. There's evidence on it."

Zarah did as she was told. She provided both of them a pair of gloves and then proceeded to ask Hunter to unlock it. After that, Quest snatched it back, found the video and played it.

The bright light of the phone's flash revealed the brick wall with Olita Pocklington, her throat already slashed, and a man, about six feet tall with a black coat, a hood on and a bloody knife in his hand.

_"HEY!"_

That was Hunter behind the camera.

_"Oh my, God! I'm filming you right now! I've got this on video! I'm calling the police! Don't you fucking move!"_

Alpha turned his head halfway. The light was so bright that even the shadow of his hood couldn't hide his face. Quest' breath caught in his throat.

Alpha then turned back to Olita and grabbed a broken glass bottom to then place it under her wound.

_"I SAID I AM CALLING THE POLICE!"_

Alpha continued his work. Quest was on the edge of his seat. After removing the glass now full of blood from under the wound, he placed it in between Olita's hands. He wiped his knife on her thin coat and stood back up.

And, finally, he turned around completely to face the man. There was no denying it anymore, the face under the black hood was definitely Dan Howell.

Alpha's face was showed for only a second before the video ended. When it did, Quest turned back to Hunter.

"After that you proceeded to call the police?" He asked.

"Yes, then he knocked me out..."

Quest had never smiled brighter.

"Alright, Mello, seal it back. This video is an even better proof than the hotel thing."

"Wait, are you just going to leave with my phone?!" Hunter exclaimed.

"Sorry, it's got precious evidence." Zarah explained. "You won't be able to have it back until we catch Alpha and this whole case is closed."

At the same moment, the ambulance arrived.

"You should probably go get checked." Quest advised. "Thank you for your time."

As he walked away from Hunter, his phone rang in his pocket. Wade was calling. He picked it up.

"Wade, there was a witness! He's still alive and he filmed Alpha in the act! We have everything to arrest Dan Howell now."

"Perfect, then. Local police just received a second distress call."

"Wait, what?!" Quest exclaimed, his heartbeat increasing.

"The caller specified that Alpha was in his house and then hung up. After retracing him, they called Tucker and turns out the address the call came from corresponds to the IP address I found on both Dan and Phil's twitter profiles. The best part is that he asked for you to come."

Quest's entire body went numb.

"Philip! P! He's the last victim!" He shouted.

Zarah and Dallas' heads turned in his direction, as well as everybody else on the scene.

"We have to go right now, if we want to catch him before he ends his pattern it's now or never!" He continued, running to his car.

"Tucker and I are already on our way along with police cars. I'll text you the address, hurry up!"

Quest hung up and dove inside his car.

"QUEST!" He heard from the other side of the scene. It was Zarah. "What's going on?!"

"ALPHA! We've got him! We've got him!" He yelled before driving off, leaving behind him the entire flabbergasted crew.


	32. Chapter 32

When Dan opened the front door of their apartment, the silence that filled his ears was almost deafening. He stepped inside and peeled off his coat. He hung it on the hook next to the door as every movement he made sounded a thousand times louder over this oddly unfamiliar calm.

Dan's instinct, which had never failed him, sensed by the deathly hush that something was not right. He climbed the stairs slowly, listening into the distance to try and hear something, anything.

Nothing.

It reminded him of the first night. The night he had met Agana Baldwin. How silent the city had been and how both calm and threatened he had felt. That night, something unexpected had happened. Maybe this was what tonight meant, too.

Unexpectedness. Or was it?

The silence was so heavy Dan felt as if it was impolite to breathe so loudly. He hadn't noticed his breath had caught in his throat on his way up the stairs. Every step was taken carefully as his feet lead him instinctively.

They suddenly stopped walking when he was in front of the two closed bedroom doors. He stared at them, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

And, after a minute, one of the knobs turned and the door creaked open in a painfully slow manner. Just as Dan had expected.

On the other side stood Phil. His chin was up, his lips were lightly pursed and his eyes were narrowed so he hoped Dan couldn't see through his fear.

Dan did anyway.

Doing the best he could to keep himself together, Phil noticed Dan close his eyes right after looking at him from head to toes. After a few seconds that felt like forever, Dan jerked lightly and his eyes opened again. Phil tried his best not to look down.

"Hello, Phil." He said after another minute of heavy silence, a slight grin growing on his lips.

"Dan." Phil replied through gritted teeth.

They stared longingly into each other's eyes. It took everything in Phil's power not to break the contact.

"I knew this day would come." Dan admitted softly.

"Did you?" Phil said, his teeth still clenched.

"Since the beginning." He smiled. "In fact, we both knew. But we denied it. And look at us now. Two souls in denial finally come to face the awful truth."

Phil didn't think it was possible for his jaw to close so tight.

"Do you remember, Phil, when you wanted to know so desperately what I do when I leave the house at night?"

Phil didn't move.

"And I told you that, perhaps, one day, you'd now?"

He smiled even wider.

"Today might be your lucky day."

Phil instinctively touched the phone in his pocket. Dan noticed his movement and shifted his eyes back to his face.

"What's wrong, Philly? Just a week ago you would've been really excited about finally knowing."

He took a deep breath and buffed his chest lightly, trying to boost himself up with some well needed confidence.

"Oh, I see." Dan sneered. "You already know."

The silence stretched between them for a few seconds that felt like eternity. Dan's eyes were burning Phil's retina with his evil glimmer, but he refused categorically to look away and display weakness.

"Alpha." Phil finally managed to articulate. " _You're_ Alpha."

Dan's laugh had never sounded so demented in Phil's ears. It chilled his blood and made his skin crawl. But his eyes did not leave his for a second.

"It feels oddly great to hear this coming out of your mouth." Dan admitted, his smile still huge on his lips. "How long did it take you to figure it out, huh? What made you finally realize? You had everything under your nose, I was waiting for the day you'd finally bring everything together and make the links. What gave it away, really?"

"Since my tracking device failed me, I put a voice recorder under your bed." Phil replied, forcing his voice to sound tough and threatening. "You sleep talk, did you know that?"

"Ooh. That's quite interesting. What did I say?"

"Everything I needed to be completely sure of what I had been avoiding for the past days."

Dan nodded his head, the evil smile unable to rub off.

"You helped me figure it out a lot too, though." Phil continued. "I could only learn from your manipulative techniques to make you talk."

Dan pursed his lips for a second, realizing that Phil was referring to _the_ night at Playlist. But his smiled reappeared quickly.

"What can I say? You learned from the best."

Phil scoffed.

"Now, Philly," Dan continued, cocking his head to the side. "If you're finally aware of everything, you probably already have the answer to all of your questions."

Phil's eye twitched.

"The drugs, the self-harm, the depression..." Phil whispered. "This was all a distraction. You were trying to distract me. Distract me from... from your night strolls."

He wouldn't have known it was possible for Dan to smile this widely if he hadn't stretched it even bigger.

"You were never depressed." Phil continued, his tone getting angrier. "You were just so glad that I assumed you were that you rolled with it. It served you as a cover, and it was probably so easy for you to pretend all the injuries you came home with were self-inflicted. And the drugs. It was all because of that syringe. That was a stupid assumption from my side. All of this only started a month ago, I would've noticed way before that if you had been a drug addict!"

He shook his head, angry at how foolish he had been.

"And your night strolls." He paused, trying to compose himself. "Your fucking night strolls..."

Dan snickered.

"What about them?" Dan asked almost seductively as he took a step closer to him. "Come on, Phil, what about the night strolls?"

Phil swallowed hard. He wanted to step back to keep the same distance between them but his limbs suddenly felt numb and he couldn't move. He took another step forward as he spoke with yet again this odd sultry tone.

"Come on, Phil, say it! I want to hear you say it..."

"Why are you like this?!" Phil suddenly uttered. "Why do you do _this_?!"

"Do what?" Dan said, taking one more step. "I can't know for sure what you're talking about if you don't say it..."

"You know what I'm talking about." Phil's jaw was clenching again.

"You followed me outside, you interrogated me both knowingly and unknowingly, you put a tracking device on me, a recording device under my bed, searched through my room, set up security cameras, watched the news, you've even met Quest Kadner..."

Phil flinched at the detective's name.

"I know you know..." Dan whispered, his mouth now only a few inches from Phil's ear. "So just say it..."

His mouth stayed shut. He felt Dan's hand make its way up his chest, and it only managed to make him angrier. Phil tried to shove him away but Dan grasped his wrist firmly before he could and made sure he stayed where he was.

"Say it." Dan ordered more sternly.

"Don't make me do this..." Phil almost begged, his hands balling up instinctively.

Dan placed a small kiss on his earlobe. Phil's body was stiff. He wasn't going to fall for this trick again. He kept quiet.

" _Say it..._ " His voice was low and sensual, so close to his hear it was as if he was trying to become one with Phil.

He let go of his wrist and his hand crawled up his chest again. Phil didn't flinch. His eyes were staring the wall in front of him as Dan's hands travelled up his body. One placed itself on his neck gingerly as the other caressed his cheek. Dan's head turned to face him. The few centimeters that separated them was enough for Phil to feel Dan's breath against his skin. He could see his lips taunting his own, his eyes quickly looking down at them and it only made his anger increase. His jaw clenched stronger as Dan got even closer, close enough for them to kiss, and after hovering his lips over Phil's, he looked deeply into his eyes and repeated with the same low and sensual tone:

" _Say it..._ "

That was it. Phil's anger had reached its peak and that had been too much. It was almost a reflex. He pushed Dan away with all his might, his face turning crimson as he yelled:

"YOU KILL PEOPLE! YOU FUCKING KILL PEOPLE!"

Dan's face was still shocked from being strongly shoved against the hard wall, but it was swiftly replaced with a satisfied and menacing smile.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Dan said arrogantly.

Phil was shaking. At this point, he didn't know if it was of anger or fear.

"Why would you do such a thing?!" He exclaimed, his voice aggressive and incomprehensive. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Dan's feature hardened and his smile dissipated.

"Here you are at it again." His tone had lost all seduction. It was stern, threatening and scary. "Good and wrong. Is that all that comes out of your pretty little mouths?! Good and wrong?!"

"What are you even saying?!" Phil had replied with a choleric tone he had never heard himself use before. "What, you think what you're doing is actually _good_?!"

"This isn't about good or wrong, _Phil_!" He had stepped forward again, staring directly at Phil with menacing eyes. " _Nothing_ is about good or wrong! The concept of what is good and what is wrong is so corrupted by what the authorities want that you can't even form an opinion that isn't biased!"

Phil was flabbergasted.

"You've been programmed to react this way, but why should you?!" He took another step forward. "Why should your opinions, your thoughts and your actions be limited? Because someone else wants it?!"

There was a silence. Phil felt as if Dan was waiting for him to answer, but his sudden change of mood and tone was terrifying. He felt like he was shrinking under every single one of Dan's words, and what Dan's actions implied towards his own life slowly started coming back to him.

"THAT'S WHY I KILL, PHIL!" He screamed. "THIS IS EXACTLY WHY! EVERYONE IS SO OBEDIENT, SO STUCK UP AUTHORITIES' ASS THAT THEY FORGET TO ACTUALLY LIVE! THEY CLAIM TO HAVE FREEDOM BUT LAWS AND SOCIAL OPINION ALWAYS COME CRASH IT DOWN!"

Phil hadn't realized he had unconsciously stepped backwards and that his back was now pressed against the wall.

"People need to wake up, Phil!" He continued, veins popping on his neck and temples. "They need to realize life isn't about being restricted- it's about being alive- completely alive, and having the power- being free, totally free. But they can't do it by themselves, because they are so afraid!"

Another step.

"To be able to finally be free, they need someone to prove them it's achievable."

Phil swallowed hard.

" _You..._ " He whispered.

"Exactly." Dan continued, the smile resurfacing slowly. "When I'll be done, they'll finally realize their true purpose. And then it will start. _The revolution_."

And, after all this time, Phil finally put his finger right on what the odd glimmer in Dan's eyes was. It was pure dementia. When he took yet again another step forward, Phil instinctively tried to back away, but the wall already covering every inch of his behind stopped him.

"No more what's good or wrong, no more rules, no more restrictions! Only the Acquired Freedom."

He got so close that he placed his hand on the wall behind Phil and looked at him straight into his eyes. His voice had regained its loving tone, but it was in no way more reassuring and unthreatening.

"You've probably guessed why I'm telling you all of this right now, Phil." He said. "I wouldn't afford revealing it all to you before being finished, right?"

Phil didn't move.

" _RIGHT?!_ " Dan exclaimed after pounding his hand on the wall.

"Y-yes..." Phil stuttered, avoiding his gaze.

With his free hand, he grabbed Phil's chin strongly and placed his head so he would be forced to look directly into his eyes.

"What's going to happen, then?"

Dan felt Phil's chin shaking under his fingers. He could see he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. When his mouth stayed shut, he tightened his grip, earning a groan from him, and asked again with more force:

"WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN?"

"Someone's going to die..." Phil replied sheepishly.

Dan grinned and let go of him. He stepped back and observed Phil from head to toes and licked his lips.

"And who is that, exactly?" Now his gaze was plainly evil.

Phil breathed sharply. He readjusted himself on his feet and dared to stare into Dan's eyes. A cold sweat dripped down his spine.

"You said only O and P were left. You've been out again." He paused and took another breath, trying to find the courage to let out the words Dan wanted him so desperately to pronounce. "O is probably dead by now..."

Dan nodded his head gently, his smile still unable to rub off, and reached his hand into his pocket. He did not let it out though, he was concentrated on Phil, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Which only leaves... P..." His voice was shaking and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He swallowed, closed his eyes and opened them again. There was no turning back.

" _Me._ " He murmured. " _I'm_ the last one."

"It was always you, Phil." Dan finally said, the evil glimmer taking the entire space in his eyes. "Since the beginning, it was you. You're an essential element to the revolution, Phil. The world needs to end in order for the revolution to begin, and thus make the new world arise. The Free World. God destroyed His world to give the people a lesson."

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and approached Phil again.

"And my world... it's you, Phil." He stopped talking and stood still, his grin shrinking by the second. "I have to destroy you so the people of this Earth can walk as freely as one can be."

He put his palm against Phil's cheek and looked tenderly into his eyes. Phil couldn't help but let a single tear slide down his face, even though he was still trying as hard as he could to stay strong. Dan wiped it away carefully with his thumb.

"I have to make sacrifices." He whispered gently. "But you'll understand, Phil. I promise you, you _will_ understand. One day or another, you'll thank me. I promise."

Dan then pressed his lips on Phil's. It was short and sweet, but Phil hadn't even moved. His eyes were still open when Dan pulled away and said:

"I'll miss you, Phil."

"It doesn't have to be like this..." Phil retorted. "You don't have to do this..."

"YES I DO!" He shouted. "I DO, I HAVE TO! IF I DON'T, IT WON'T LEAVE!"

"What won't leave?" Phil asked as softly as he could. It was probably his last and only chance to save himself.

There was a long silence. Nothing could be heard except from Phil's breathing that had gotten heavier. He could see Dan was mentally debating what he would say next.

"The voice..." He finally answered, a very faint hint of fear in his tone. "If I don't do it, it won't leave..."

"What voice..?"

"SHUT UP!"

Phil's body stiffened again.

"Dan, it's okay-" He dared to add.

"NO!"

He only had time to dodge. Dan had swiftly shoved his hand down his pocket, taken his penknife out, switched it and tried to stab Phil's head. The blade sunk into the wall behind him, only a few centimeters away from his ear. Phil's eyes widened and his breathing quickened.

"THE WORLD NEEDS TO BE REBORN, PHIL! YOU MUST DIE!"

It was at this exact moment that Phil didn't recognize Dan anymore. His tone was foreign and frightening and the glimmer in his eyes translated something more evil than he had ever imagined. He glanced at the blade next to his head, and at Dan again before finally realizing what he had to do.

Run. Run as fast and as far away as possible.

Without thinking, he shoved Dan away and ran down the corridor. He looked back halfway through only to notice Dan retrieving the knife from the wall and throwing it in his direction. He turned back around and duck, falling on all fours.

"You can't run, Phil! I'll find you!" He exclaimed, walking towards him at a fast pace.

Phil clumsily got back up on his feet and took a hard right to go down the stairs. He could hear Dan's footsteps behind him.

The adrenaline made his mind race. When he reached the first floor, he headed towards the toilet and locked himself in. Dan was still up the stairs, it would buy him some time.

His throat dry, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed 999.

 _"999, what is your emergency?"_ He heard on the other side of the phone after a few seconds of painful silence.

"Help me..." Phil whispered into the phone. "Alpha is inside my house right now... Please, send help..."

 _"Alpha is inside your house right now?"_ The woman repeated.

"Yes... yes, yes... Please, hurry up... Tell Quest Kadner to come, please..."

_"Sir, you need to tell me your address."_

"Phiiiil! Where are you?" Dan cooed.

He was in the corridor of the toilet.

"He's here..." Phil breathed into the phone. He felt a drop of sweat slip down his forehead. "I have to go..."

_"Sir, wait-"_

He hung up. He shoved the phone back down his pocket and placed his ear against the door to listen to Dan's footsteps. He was close. He put his hand over his mouth to cover his heavy breathing.

"You will be a part of something great, Phil! Something worth it, something memorable!" Dan exclaimed. "You will be the reason why people are free! It will be because of you- because of _us!_ "

His voice got closer to the toilet.

"Your life will serve as the new beginning, the beginning of a new era! You don't have to be afraid, all of this is not going to be in vain!"

He was right outside the door.

"People will be thanking you, they'll recognize your death as a sacrifice for the human race! You will be praised, Phil!"

He stopped walking. Phil could see the shadow of his feet under the door. He put his second hand over his mouth to make sure Dan couldn't hear him.

"Where are you? Come out now, let's get this over with... Come out and I'll try to make it quick for you..." He was trying to make his tone as inviting as possible.

Phil knew he had to buy himself more time. He had to hide away from Dan as long as he could to give Quest Kadner enough time to get here.

"The more you resist it, the more it'll hurt, though..."

He had walked past his hiding spot. Phil heard the creak of the door next to the toilet. It was his only chance to get out before he found him. He gathered his strength and opened the door violently. The swing was strong enough to hit Dan's back and propel him on his knees into the cupboard he had just opened.

Phil took a second to analyse what had happened before the adrenaline rushed back to his brain and forced him to start running for the stairs. As he was about to put his foot on the first step, he looked behind only to see Dan had gotten back on his feet and was right behind him. He launched himself onto Phil and they both fell to the ground.

Dan straddled Phil and held him down strongly with one hand on his shoulder.

"I told you it would hurt more it you tried to resist!" Dan reminded, applying more force every time Phil struggled inside his grip.

He then swung his hand and guided his blade towards Phil's face. The adrenaline still reacting faster than him, Phil placed his free arm in front of himself and stopped Dan's knife at a few centimeters from his face.

He pushed as hard as he could against the force of Dan's arm. He slipped a few times, watching the blade get closer to his face as Dan licked his lips with anticipation.

His arm was shaking. He wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. He had to do something, now, right now. Otherwise he would succumb under Dan's knife before Quest had arrived. He looked around, searching desperately for a way to escape his strong grasp.

He realized Dan wasn't trying to keep his legs from moving. That was it.

Without thinking about it further, Phil bend his knee quickly and hit him between his legs. Dan let out a muffled groan and his grip on Phil loosened. He took this moment of weakness to punch Dan square on the nose. His fist was immediately seized with an indescribable pain. Dan dropped his blade and brought his hands to his face fast enough for the first drop of blood to fall into his palm. Phil pushed him to the side and slithered from under him.

When he got himself on his feet, he snatched the blade from the ground at the same time and looked at the stairs. Run. Run, hide and wait for Quest.

He didn't think twice and sprinted. When he touched the first step again he really thought he would finally get to the second floor, but when he went for the second, his foot was held behind. He lost his balance and fell face first on the stairs.

Blood oozing from his nose, Dan was strongly holding onto Phil's ankle and wasn't ready to let go. Phil tried to kick him with his other foot but Dan successfully dodged every time.

"Stop resisting, Phil! Be a part of something worth it for once in your pitiful life!"

"Let go of me!" Phil exclaimed, kicking once more at Dan's head.

"My world must be destroyed in order for the new one to arise!" Dan uttered, his grip tightening around Phil's ankle. "You have to die, you _must_ die!"

"LET GO OF ME!"

Phil suddenly remembered he was still holding Dan's knife. He brandished it in front of him.

"You will regret not being a part of this, Phil! YOU _WILL_ REGRET IT!"

Phil slashed the knife. Dan put his arm in front of his face and the blade danced across his skin. He winced and grabbed his bruised limb with his other hand. The blood poured out through his fingers. Phil stared at the blade for a second before turning around and running up the stairs.

He was out of breath but he didn't even notice. Hide and wait. That was the only thing on his mind. He could hear Dan moaning from downstairs, which indicated him he still had time to find himself a hiding spot.

His mind was racing so fast. The first door he saw was the first place he ran to. He got into the lounge and placed the door the same as it first was. He looked around hastily, but nowhere was a good place to hide. He considered under the table, but when he heard Dan's footsteps coming up the stairs, he went with hiding behind the sofa.

"PHIL!" He heard. Dan's tone was getting less and less friendly. "Don't be so selfish, everybody's freedom depends on you!"

He covered his mouth and shut his eyes tightly, hoping the room he was in wouldn't be Dan's first choice.

"Where are you?!" Dan shouted. "The people need you, Phil!"

He stayed still. His muscles were so tense it hurt. He could hear Dan's feet just outside the door and his angry voice was resonating clearly to his ears. He tried to make himself smaller to make sure his entire body was hidden.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" He yelled once more. "Your stubborn resistance will only make the sacrifice last longer!"

Dan placed his hand on the lounge's door. Phil completely stopped breathing and waited, listening. There was a very long silence in which both of them didn't move or talk. They just listened.

After what seemed forever, Dan turned on his heels and walked down the hallway.

Phil exhaled when he heard his steps go away and panted anxiously. He was holding the penknife so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Dan continued his speech on the other side of the wall.

"You must suffer for the suffering to end!"

Phil quickly analysed his surroundings. Apart from the sofa cushions and stuff on the bookshelf, there wasn't a lot of things he could throw if Dan finally found him and was getting too close. He checked the time on his phone. It had only been 5 minutes since he had called the police. He exhaled sharply.

Dan kicked Phil's bedroom door opened. Phil jumped and sunk lower behind the sofa.

"Why are you so scared of your destiny, Phil?" He exclaimed. "Why be scared of something you can't change, something inevitable? Why not just embrace it?"

There was a silence followed by another kick on Dan's bedroom door this time.

"WHY NOT EMBRACE YOUR DESTINY INSTEAD OF RUNNING AWAY FROM IT?! BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW LONG YOU RUN, IT WILL ALWAYS, _ALWAYS_ CATCH UP ON YOU!"

There was another painfully long pause.

"You can take my words on it." Dan simply added.

Phil gulped. Dan had realized Phil wasn't in any of their bedrooms and he could already hear his angry footsteps coming down the hallway into the lounge. He didn't even have time to process it that Dan busted the door open.

Phil was paralyzed. He could hear Dan coming in his direction, but his body had gone numb and his brain had simply stopped.

"You can't run anymore, Phil." Dan reminded him. He was only a feet away now.

His last words were what made Phil's limbs move again. Instinctively, he stood up in a swift movement, grabbed a book on the shelf and threw it at him.

Dan shielded himself with his arms. He stopped himself in his walk, startled, before Phil grabbed a second one and threw it with all his strength. It hit Dan in the stomach and he bent down slightly, evidently hurt. Phil took advantage of this moment to run for the door.

He was quickly stopped when Dan extended his leg and he stumbled on it. He fell on his front and landed on his forearms. He immediately put himself back on his feet, the knife still in hand, and tried to run again but Dan pushed him forward and pinned him on the table.

"You can't run." Dan repeated as he held Phil's head down.

Phil squirmed under Dan's strong grip, but he wasn't ready to let him go. He waved the knife, trying to stab Dan anywhere so he could be set free. But Dan saw his weak attempt and grabbed his wrist. He tried to snatch the blade but Phil continued wriggling around. With the both of them forcing to get the penknife, when Phil's fingers untangled themselves from around the handle, the weapon was thrown across the room, slid on the floor and stopped its ride under the sofa.

Dan grunted and pulled Phil back up. He turned him around aggressively and shoved him on the other side of the room.

"Resistance is foolish!" Dan spat. "FOOLISH!"

"The only foolish thing is for you to think you're going to get me so easily." Phil replied sternly. "I know you, Dan, I've known you longer than _any_ of your victims and I know you're not like that!"

"Oh yeah?" He snickered. "And the 15 dead people, did I not kill them?!"

"Yes these people are dead!" Phil continued. "Yes you killed them... but it wasn't _you!_ You're not _you!"_

"YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!" Dan yelled. Phil had never seen him look so angry.

"I've known you for six years! We're always together, damn it! I know you! _That is not you!"_

"Exactly. You've _only_ known me for six years."

"Dan, please, I know you're in there..." Phil's voice had gotten softer. "You wouldn't do this... I know you wouldn't do this... You wouldn't do this to me... Not to _me_..."

Dan took a step forward. Phil didn't move. He was determined to bring back Dan, _the_ Dan, _his_ Dan.

"You don't believe in the sacrifice." Dan said through gritted teeth, ignoring Phil's words. "This is a pity."

"Please, Dan look at me..." Phil begged. "Look at my eyes... Please, remember everything we did together, before all of this started, remember when we met, remember that... Remember how happy we were..."

Dan took another step.

"We could've made great things, you and me." Dan continued. "Great things."

"We still can! We can still do so many great things! Just you and me... Please, Dan..."

Dan closed the distance between them, wrapped his hands around Phil's neck and shoved him against the fireplace. He squeezed strongly as Phil grabbed his wrists, trying to set himself free. He could feel Dan's fingers tightening themselves around him, and the air getting stuck in his throat. He had never been choked before, and all he could have described it as was "imprisoning". His reflex was to breathe harder, but Dan's grip was so strong that he couldn't even feel a difference.

"The sacrifice must be done!"

Phil continued hitting Dan's arms as his hand reached behind him to grab something, anything, to help him get air back to his lungs.

Dan continued his speech through gritted teeth, saying _"the sacrifice, Phil! The sacrifice must be done!"_ over and over again.

The loss of oxygen was beginning to make him lightheaded, but he wasn't ready to give up. His fingertip grazed upon something on the fireplace, and after extending his arm to a length he couldn't believe was possible, he wrapped his fingers around it and swung quickly in direction of Dan's head.

He couldn't tell what the object was until it rammed against Dan's temple and made him release his neck. It was a vase. The vase shattered at the impact. Dan recoiled and grabbed the side of his head with both hands. Blood squirted through and under his fingers.

As for Phil, it took him a long second to inhale deeply and regain his balance. He saw Dan's bleeding head from the corner of his eyes. As he inhaled deeply again, he launched himself forward and crouched to grab the knife from under the couch. His eyes were shifting from the knife he could barely reach, to Dan, who was hissing and slowly pulling out a piece of glass that had lodged itself deep into his cheek.

Phil kept his eyes on the disturbing scene, trying to stretch out his arm as far as he had done the first time. But it was only when he managed to secure the blade between his index and his middle finger that Dan pulled out the entire piece out of his flesh and approached him swiftly. Phil, still panting, managed to dodge the foot that was threatening to bash his head. He pulled the blade closer to him after dodging once again one of Dan's fists headed straight for his face. He successfully grabbed it by the handle, but as he was about to bring it out from under the sofa and brandish it in front of him, Dan gripped his wrist and pinned it to the ground.

"Stop fighting! The sacrifice, Phil! Think of the people we will free!"

Grunting, Phil used his free hand to shove his thumb in Dan's eye. He screamed, then louder and louder as Phil applied more and more pressure.

"Let me go!" Phil shouted, feeling Dan's eyeball moving quickly under his thumb.

Dan finally released his wrist, but he was faster than Phil. He grabbed the hand that was hurting his eye and pushed it away, then with a speed Phil could only admire, he grabbed him by the collar and punched him on the mouth.

Phil's head jolted back and hit the hard ground beneath him. He was so shocked that he forgot he was armed. Dan used his disorientation to punch him again, on the exact same spot. Phil howled in pain. His hands opened, his mind too busy focusing on the pain, and so he dropped the penknife.

Dan heard the clang of the blade hitting the ground and went to grab it, but, in his suffering, Phil moved his arms upwards and pushed the weapon out of any of their reach.

Groaning angrily, Dan threw his fist for a third time and hit Phil on the same spot. He could see his skin getting rapidly purple. He licked his lips. But on the fourth throw, Phil grasped Dan's arm and pulled it towards him. He opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into Dan's flesh.

He held onto it for dear life, only biting harder every time Dan's cries got louder. He could suddenly taste the blood pouring into his mouth over the salty taste of his skin. He had pierced through it. After too much, Dan recoiled, a part of his flesh holding loosely to the rest of it, and gave enough space for Phil to roll to the side. Dan looked at his arm for a second but immediately kicked his foot at Phil's head again.

Phil had enough time to dodge it and put himself on his feet. The adrenaline rush was so intense he could hardly feel anything, except for the blood dripping from his nose. He saw yet another punch come at him, but he ducked just in time. He clenched his fists and exhaled deeply.

Phil didn't know how to properly punch. His fist was still hurting from doing it the first time, but he wasn't going to let Dan win. So he threw his fist forward the best he could, but Dan skillfully dodged. Phil tried with his other hand and Dan sidestepped.

He then grinned and hit Phil in his stomach. His breath cut and he bent over, his arms folded around his abdomen. Phil looked up just in time to see Dan's uppercut coming straight at him. The pain traveled from his stomach to his chin as he wobbled backwards. Phil was getting impatient. He balled up his hands again and went for another punch, but Dan grabbed his arm in the process and twisted it around.

Phil screamed, turning around to follow the angle his arm was being put in. He then felt Dan's foot on his lower back and suddenly he was propelled forward, and he landed on all fours. When he opened his eyes again after anticipating the fall, the knife was right under him. He let out a sharp satisfied sigh before snatching it right as Dan was grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.

He turned Phil back around to face him. Even underneath all of the blood and wounds, the evil glimmer in Dan's eyes was still overtaking everything else in his face. It made Phil's skin crawl.

Dan licked off the blood that had streamed onto his lips as he slowly lifted his fist again. Phil stared at it fearfully, and as he could see Dan giving himself a swing, he stabbed the blade he was strongly holding into Dan's gut.

Dan opened his mouth in shock, but nothing came out. His eyes had widened and they both stared at each other for a few seconds, Dan's eyes full of incomprehension and Phil's full of terror.

He couldn't believe he had just done that.

They both looked down in a painfully slow manner. The knife was entirely sunk into Dan's abdomen. His lips shaking, Phil looked back at Dan. Still nothing was coming out of his mouth. He could see a thick string of blood flowing out from around the handle. Dan suddenly grasped him by the shoulder strongly and guided his other towards Phil's, which was still holding onto the knife.

Reluctantly, Phil twisted the blade. This time, a long cry full of pain came out of Dan's mouth. His fingers dug themselves into Phil's flesh as more blood oozed out from the wound onto his stomach. Phil's eyes filled with tears as he clenched his teeth and twisted again, earning yet another terrible sound from Dan.

He couldn't believe he was doing that. He fought the urge to say _"I'm sorry"._

After making a complete turn with the knife, Phil let go of the handle and pushed Dan backwards. He let go of his shoulders and swayed on his feet.

Phil slowly backed away and observed Dan, still processing what had just happened. The other reached for the handle, and after wrapping his fingers around it gracefully, he began extracting the blade with loud grunts and short breaths.

Overtaken with how frightening this whole scene was, Phil's breath got heavier than it already was as he felt his heart bang so hard against his ribcage he thought it would crack it open. Not tearing his eyes from Dan struggling to unplug the knife, he headed for the door and ran upstairs.

During his ascend, Phil's head started spinning. The vision of the blade entering Dan's body kept repeating itself in his mind. He was battling the urge to throw up. He didn't have time to feel sorry. He had to run. Run, hide and wait for Quest. _Run, hide and wait for Quest._

When he reached the top, he heard a clang in the distance. Dan had pulled the blade out. A cold sweat dripped down his back.

"The sacrifice, Phil..." He heard Dan exclaim in a croaky voice. "It must be done! It must be done! Stop running and accept your destiny! Stop being so selfish!"

Phil looked around the office. It was the smallest room in the house, it was on the second floor and it didn't lead anywhere else. He had seriously chosen the worst place to run to.

He chased away that thought and looked for somewhere, anywhere he could hide. But as fast as he tried to think, there was absolutely no safe option for him. After exhaling sharply, he stared at the window. That was his best option.

He couldn't hear Dan anymore. He was being deathly silent, which wasn't reassuring. Gathering his strength and shoving his fear at the back of his mind, he walked towards the window and opened it.

He looked behind him to check if Dan was coming. He wasn't. He still couldn't hear him, but he knew his stab wound would slow him down and therefore give him slightly more time to plan out his reckless escape.

He placed both hands on the windowsill and looked down. Goosebumps travelled his entire body. This was high. Really high. He checked behind him again. Still nothing. He dove his head out the window again to analyse his surroundings. The ground was far away, covered in grass. This would probably do a terrible job at cushioning his fall, but he reassured himself by thinking that it could've been concrete. There was a small outside ledge right under the window. It was thin, though, and he suspected his feet wouldn't hold too long on that thing. There was a tree right in front of the window. It was far, but not out of reach if he gave himself enough momentum.

He looked behind again. Nothing. He stepped back and stared at the window. He breathed in and out heavily, trying to find courage. He checked behind once more before putting his hands back on the windowsill and leaning forward. He saw the ground and was overtaken with panic. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. _"It's fine. I'll be fine."_

He lifted his right foot and placed it on the windowsill next to his hand. He then brought his left foot up, and when he was stable enough, he straightened his back and slowly got himself up. He passed his head under the top ledge and stepped on the small one outside. He was holding the sides so tight his knuckles were white. He stared directly at the tree in front of him. He didn't know what he really intended on doing, but he knew that getting out of this with broken legs was way better than with a lost life and a crying mother.

He dared to look down. He regretted it immediately. He stared back at the tree and exhaled. He decided to give himself a countdown. Count to three and then he would jump.

Jump.

"One..."

"Two..."

"Thr-"

Something wrapped itself around his stomach and his entire body was pulled back into the house. He hit the floor harshly.

He opened his eyes, his head pounding, and saw Dan's bloody and injured face hovering over him, an evil smile stretched from ear to ear.

"You thought you could escape me so easily!" He exclaimed as he kicked Phil with all his might. "You can't run from the people who need you!"

Dan grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him up. Phil's head had hit the ground so hard he was dizzy. He tried reacting but his vision was failing him and he could only concentrate on not falling into unconsciousness. He couldn't feel the punch on his jaw and hardly realized he was being thrown across the room. His ears were ringing and he could barely hear what Dan was uttering.

Dan kicked him, again and again, punched him and threw him around, yelling and repeating the same speech over and over. Phil was slowly getting aware. Aware enough to realize he was being pushed down the stairs.

He only had time to cover his head with his arms before he felt his body being dragged down. He could feel every hard step dig in his already injured body, and when he finally landed on the bottom floor, his breath got cut his in lungs.

Phil weakly got himself on all fours, but it only gave Dan access for another kick in the stomach. He collapsed, moaning, hurting.

"I told you the more you resisted the more it would hurt." Dan reminded him. His hands were covered in blood, his own blood. It was as if his stab wound hadn't even managed to slow him down and weaken him. "I would have loved for it to have been quick and painless for you. You brought this on yourself, Phil."

_Run, hide and wait for Quest._

He got himself on all fours a second time, only to end up with yet another kick in the guts. He collapsed, grunting.

"There isn't a better person for this sacrifice." Dan continued.

"You're crazy..." Phil managed to mumble.

"All the best people are." Dan replied with a grin.

For a third time, Phil got on all fours. He expected a kick, but it never came. He stared at his bedroom door, and, weakly, crawled in its direction while Dan stood behind, watching him.

"You're still fighting." Dan pointed out. "You must have such a deep desire to survive. This is a pity."

Phil ignored him. He focused on the door. Get to the door. Hide. Wait for Quest.

"You have the opportunity to change the world and you would rather run away and hide like a coward."

Ignore. Focus. Door. Hide. Wait. Quest.

"Because of us people will be able to live freely." He explained. "I know, Phil, that those thoughts, you've had them. You've had them, all your life, the voice inside your head, whispering to you. It whispers you to do things, things you never would've thought were possible, things you never even considered, but I know. I know that every time it whispers to you, there's this everlasting desire of making it reality. You imagine yourself actually doing it, and the feeling that fills you up is so good you almost feel guilty. I know. I _know_ you feel that."

He kept crawling, every move hurting every fiber of his being.

"And the best part is that you know that those thoughts automatically earn you a negative response from everyone. But the desire, the deep desire of seeing it come to life. How do you get rid of it? It's so big inside your chest it consumes you. And then you repress it. But why? Why should you repress it, Phil?"

He had made it halfway through the corridor.

"I've been repressing it all my life. But I've pushed that limit. And now I've finally tasted the sweetness of that feeling, and, God, there is nothing in this world that can be compared to this. And I want everybody to be able to taste it too. But nobody can. Police, laws, norms and social opinion are our worst enemies. You're the last puzzle piece to the start of the revolution, Phil. Because of you, we will allow everyone to think freely. Accept your destiny."

Phil ignored him again. He kept crawling, tears falling from his eyes.

 _"ACCEPT YOUR DESTINY!"_ Dan shouted.

Phil stopped crawling. He turned his head slowly and when he could see Dan, his injured, sweaty and pale face staring at him with angry eyes and his bloody hand over his stab wound, he opened his mouth and said through gritted teeth:

"Fuck. You."

Dan's feature hardened. His eyes squinted and his body straightened. They both stayed there, looking at each other longingly, waiting for someone to say or do something first.

After what felt forever, Dan disappeared in the lounge. Phil exhaled sharply and turned back around. He tried to crawl faster even though every inch of his body was killing him. He peeked behind and saw Dan walk back into the corridor with the penknife in hand.

His eyes widened. Adrenaline rushed through his body and, ignoring the pain, he pulled himself on his feet but fell down immediately. His ankle was sprained. He tried again, not bothering to look back, and focused on his bedroom door.

He had almost reached the knob when he felt his shirt being pulled back. His body was rammed against the wall and his hands went flying in the air. He opened his eyes after the impact and saw Dan brandishing the knife. He didn't even have time to process it that he swung his arm and stabbed the blade in Phil's palm, jamming it in the plaster of the wall.

Phil screamed. Instinctively, he tried to pull his arm but it only increased the suffering. He only had time to see the huge satisfied grin on Dan's face before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Phil took his other hand to try and remove the blade, but given his position his movements were limited and he couldn't do anything that wouldn't hurt him further. The amount of blood squirting out of his hands only increased every time he tried a new move.

He heard clanging in the kitchen and, suddenly, Dan walked back out with a meat cleaver in hand. Phil couldn't help himself. He begged.

"No, no, no, no, please, n-"

Dan had swung the cleaver without leaving Phil's eyes. It landed on his wrist gracefully and sliced through the flesh and bones as smoothly as a knife through warm butter.

Phil had never felt anything like this in his entire life. He yelled at the top of his lungs, lifting his arm up to his face and confirming with his own eyes that his hand was in fact no longer attached to the rest of his body.

He had no words to describe the feeling. He had never felt a pain so alarming, so intense and so real. He could see his own blood, his own flesh, his own muscles and his own bones, and as much as he tried to convince himself this wasn't real, when he saw his hand decorating the wall with Dan's penknife, he knew couldn't escape reality.

He grabbed his stump with his other hand as he kept yelling and yelling. He began to feel dizzy again, but before he collapsed, Dan tackled him down and straddled him. He grabbed his head and made him face him.

"It's over, Phil." He said calmly. "The revolution is starting. The sacrifice is beginning."

Phil wanted to reply, but he wasn't able to form any words. His mind was racing. There was so much blood on him it was disorienting. His ears were ringing again and the world around him was spinning. Dan's face was staring at him with his disgusting devilish grin. He saw him lean down and plant a kiss on his lips. He tried to move his head to refuse it, but Dan was holding it in place.

When he finally let go, he caressed his cheek and wiped a tear that had just slid down his eye.

"It's for the best. For the best of all of us. You will understand one day."

With a shaking hand, he lifted up the penknife he had taken back from the wall and delicately placed it on his right cheek. And as Phil yelled again, the excruciating pain traveling his entire body, Dan carved the number 16 on both sides. Phil stomped his feet and arms on the floor, unable to endure any of the pain anymore. He wanted it to stop. All of it. To stop.

When Dan was done carving the last number, he admired his work and exploded in laughter. It was so evil, so devilish, maniac, and almost unhuman even...

"The revolution, Phil!" He exclaimed madly, throwing his fists in the air. His voice was unrecognizable. It was as if somebody else, a demon, an evil entity, _something_ had taken control of him. Whoever- or whatever this was, Phil didn't know this person. "It's starting! It's starting right no-"

"FREEZE! DO NOT MOVE!"

Time stopped. Dan and Phil looked at each other as if it they were in slow motion. Phil dropped his head on the ground, sighing in relief and looking up at the ceiling to thank everything in the universe, unable to stop himself from smiling. Dan looked behind him, where the voice had come from, and saw five officers pointing guns at him. He recognized the one in the middle. It was Quest Kadner.

"THIS IS THE MI5, DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" Quest uttered, holding his gun so tight his hands were almost numb.

Dan turned back to Phil in disbelief.

"You called him..." He whispered, incredulous. "You called Quest!"

Phil's grin grew bigger.

 _"Lucror sum."_ He spat at him.

Dan couldn't believe his ears. He stayed there, the penknife still in hand, staring at Phil, betrayed.

"I SAID DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM, NOW!" Quest repeated aggressively.

"But the sacrifice is not over!" He murmured. "It's not-"

"You're done, Dan. You're done." Phil exclaimed.

Dan shook his head.

"No. No I'm not."

And in a single motion, he sliced his knife across Phil's throat. His eyes opened as wide as the moon, and the incredulous expression that had stained his face printed itself in Dan's mind forever. The blood gushed out onto him, and, at this exact moment, Dan felt something as close as guilt.

"DON'T SHOOT HIM!" Quest immediately ordered. "DO NOT SHOOT!"

Dan dropped the penknife. As soon as it touched the ground, he heard loud footsteps behind him and suddenly he was being dragged off of Phil's body.

Quest had put away his gun and ran to Alpha. He grabbed him by the chest and pulled him away from Phil as EMTs rushed to his side. Dan began struggling in his arms, yelling and complaining.

"IT WILL BE OVER SOON, PHIL!" He yelled. "THE REVOLUTION WILL START!"

Dan managed to squeeze his arm away from Quest's grip and reached it out to Phil.

"PHIL I TRUST YOU! I TRUST YOU, PHIL! THE SACRIFICE IS DONE, I TRUST YOU!"

Wade jumped in with the help of Tucker to neutralise Dan. They tackled him down, pressed his head against the floor and put on handcuffs.

"Alpha, you are under arrest for multiple counts of murder. You don't have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do or say may be taken down and given in evidence."

Wade looked at Quest proudly. He nodded his head, humble.

They pulled Dan back on his feet and dragged him away from the house.

"YOU WILL UNDERSTAND ONE DAY, PHIL!" He continued yelling desperately, his voice shaking. "I PROMISE! I WON'T LET YOU DOWN! YOU WILL UNDERSTAND ALL OF THIS, YOU WILL THANK ME! I PROMISE YOU, PHIL! I PROMISE YOU!"

He kept fighting against Wade and Quest's grip, like he wanted to go back to Phil's side and be there for his passing. He felt his chest swelling up. He wanted to be there to reassure him, to tell him it would be okay.

The _voice_ was cackling in the back of Dan's head. It was cheering and screaming, laughing and celebrating.

But, in the bottom of the well, Dan felt his heart wrench. He saw Phil's mutilated body one last time before turning the corner and being dragged down the stairs. He remembered his incredulous expression, and tried to see his beautiful face underneath. He wasn't capable.

When the front door opened to let the moonlight dance over him, he was blinded by the car lights and disoriented by the sirens. Quest's grip on him was tight, he wasn't going to let him go. He looked at him from the corner of his eyes. His gaze was saying everything.

He was laid on a stretcher and taken to an ambulance. As he got pushed in, Quest was staring at him.

"We'll see each other again, Alpha." He simply said before slamming the doors.

There was a police officer he didn't know sat on the bench next to an EMT. They spoke briefly and the ambulance drove off.

Dan watched his apartment disappear into the distance. He remembered the blue of Phil's eyes and the way they used to look at him. It calmed him down.

"I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the last chapter. thank you for reading this story, i truly appreciate it :)


	33. ?

The P.A resounded loudly around the room and two guards ran past them. Another one, dressed more neatly, entered a code on the keypad next to the door and the alarm of the lock coming undone was heard. He pushed the door and let his guests come in before him.

The guard offered the three a seat at the table in the middle of the small room. Wade and Quest refused.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?"

"Yes."

His answer had been immediate. Quest glanced at Wade, and then at the guard.

"They start in 10 minutes." The guard said, as if he had read Quest's mind.

He nodded.

"You know, it's been a while, it's probably not going to be how you imagine it."

"I don't care."

Quest sighed.

"You should know that a lot has changed." Wade continued. "He's not how you remember him."

"I'm not how he remembers me."

There was a silence.

"It's not going to be easy." Quest said. "I was the only one to ever visit him. I haven't been here in two years."

"I know."

Wade spoke to Quest.

"I don't want this to screw him up." He whispered. "They worked so hard to keep him away from all this."

"It was his decision." Quest replied. "Besides, they've been keeping him away from it, but it's still in his head. It's his reality now. He can't truly escape it. He had to confront it one day or another."

"5 minutes." The guard announced.

"Still want to do it?" Wade asked again.

"Yes!"

His answer was aggressive this time.

"Don't go in there if you're angry." Quest advised. "We can come another day, we don't have to rush things."

"No! I want to do it now! I've been waiting long enough!"

The guard adjusted his belt and crossed his arms. He glared at Quest.

"He's not going in there if he's in that state." He warned. "They're like sharks detecting a drop of blood, we don't want them to get more violent."

"He's right." Quest agreed. "Get yourself together."

"Get myself together?"

He got up fast.

"LOOK WHAT HE DID TO ME!"

Quest stared at Phil. He looked nothing like what he had once been. A long scar traveled across his neck. It was pink and wrinkly, easily distinguishable. It couldn't be covered by clothing other than turtlenecks and scarfs, and every time he saw it, Quest was reminded of the scene he had witnessed three years ago.

It was almost as surprising as Phil's stump. His right hand had had difficulty healing. It had gotten infected three times during the process and the scar had ended up uglier than it could have been. He remembered visiting Phil during his rehabilitation, where he had learned to live with his prosthesis, such as learning to write again. Phil didn't like his prosthesis and had chosen not to wear it that day.

But the most shocking thing that had changed Phil was the unmissable scars on his cheeks. The number sixteen that had been carved onto both of his cheeks and had healed the same way as his neck. It had been three years since the Alpha case, but Phil's cheeks were a never ending reminder of the past's hardship. A tear slid down his scar.

"My life is ruined!" Phil exclaimed.

"Two minutes." The guard said.

"Philip, I know this is hard for you, I truly do." Quest told. "But right now, if you want this to happen, you have to show strength. I know you are strong, you've proven it to me a long time ago."

He paused.

"Can you do that?"

Phil swallowed hard and quickly wiped his tear. He clenched his jaw and sat back down.

"Yes." He said.

Quest and Wade nodded.

"One minute."

"You remember he hasn't been informed that you survived, right?"

Phil nodded.

"It will probably be overwhelming for him." Quest added.

Phil grinned contemptuously.

"That's the only reason why I'm here." He said through gritted teeth. "I want to see the color drain from his face."

"It's time." The guard said.

Quest approached Phil and patted him on the shoulder as he stood back up. He walked to the door with the guard.

"You leave whenever you've had enough." Wade reminded him.

He shook his head.

"Are you ready?" Quest asked.

"Yes."

"Be strong."

The guard entered another code and the door unlocked. He pushed it and Phil turned his head to Quest one last time before entering the visiting room.

Another guard inside indicated him to sit down in front of one of the windows and wait for the detainees to get in. His heart started beating fast when he heard screaming and complaining on the other side of the window.

After a few minutes, new guards entered holding detainees in orange suits. Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat. There he was. Dan.

His head was down and his hands were cuffed on his front. Unlike other detainees, Dan was being dragged by two guards. When they sat him down, he didn't even look up. Phil's jaw clenched so hard his muscles were hurting.

He grabbed the phone with his left hand and put it on his ear. He waited for Dan to do something.

After a few seconds, his contained hands reached for the phone.

"What brings you here after all this time, Que-"

Dan had finally lifted his head. He was skinnier. His hair was longer. He looked at Phil right in the eyes and his heart stopped. Phil saw the color drain from his face and disbelief grow in his eyes.

"Phil?"

There was a silence in which Phil tried his best to keep his strong façade despite all the memories that were flowing back in his mind.

"Dan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> officially the end now lmao here is a playlist i made of songs that remind me/make me think of psycho, you can listen if ever you're interested: https://play.spotify.com/user/22wencehmre6hwzce7r2xe7ui/playlist/6wEsEZGHpbpZUymBF98tDx
> 
> see you in another realm


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